Pen Pals
by The Lonely God With a Box
Summary: Draco is exchanging anonymous letters with another Hogwarts student, pen named, Id. Id reveals disturbing information about himself, and Draco finds himself personally invested in Id's troubles. No slash. M for suicidal themes, torture.
1. The Mail Station

In Hogwarts, there was a mail station of sorts. It had originally been intended as a place for the owls to leave packages and letters for the students, but that idea had been quickly abandoned when the owls began to deliver their burdens directly to their owners in the Great Hall generations ago.

While not used for its original purpose, the mail station in the owlery had not been forgotten by the students. Instead, the students used the mail station as a sounding board, anonymously writing letters using pen names and other identity concealment charms. The students had designated one side of the station for what they called "open letters." Open letters were letters which were not for a particular individual, a letter anyone could answer. Once the letters were addressed to a particular pen name, then they went on the other side of the station, and a little label floated above each reply, stating the intended recipient. No one but the owner of the pen name would be able to take the letter, which ensured security.

It was common for the Hogwarts students to use the mail station for any number of things, including gossip, advice, and simply the thrill of having a pen pal. There was a certain attraction in writing to someone you didn't know, someone who could be the person sitting next to you in the Great Hall, or someone you'd never actually met. Sometimes, even new friendships were formed through the mail station. And that was why none of the administration of the school had taken the mail station down, despite the failure of its original intention. It actually played a positive role in the relationships between the students.

These anonymous friendships were powerful things, more powerful than the magic the students learned in classes sometimes. You didn't have to know the name of the person you wrote to for that person to have a great influence on your life.

This is the story of how one such anonymous friendship changed the lives of everyone at Hogwarts, whether in a big or little way, changed the wizarding world, and changed the outcome of the second wizarding war.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was worried. It was his sixth year. He had a Dark Mark (which he prayed to God no one knew about), and was commissioned by the Dark Lord to murder Albus Dumbledore. Draco couldn't say he was ever overly fond of Dumbledore, but he wasn't a killer. Thus the pitiful attempts at Dumbledore's life, the ones that had gone awry. Yet if he didn't succeed in his mission, he would be the one to suffer, slow torture, followed by inevitable death, he was sure.

And that was why Draco found himself in the forgotten girls' bathroom on the second floor, more than one time, dealing with the panic attacks this knowledge brought on. He would either have to kill or be killed. He couldn't face either option, and it scared the hell out of him.

If only he had been born into a different situation. It was an accident of birth that he was the son of one of the most influential men in wizarding Britain, and it was a further accident that said man was also a powerful Death Eater who had gotten on the bad side of his master.

Why couldn't he have been lucky? Why couldn't he have been born to a peaceful couple, lived a good, quiet life, and never had to make a choice like this? Heck, why couldn't he be like Potter? Sure, Draco understood that Potter was an orphan, and it had to be pretty rough, not knowing your parents at all, but still, this was _Potter_ he was thinking about. Potter was well loved, famous, rich. He had everything anyone could hope for, and never had to act against what he knew to be the right thing.

Draco's conscience never left him alone these days. Having been forced into joining the Death Eaters, and being forced to do these things, gave him nightmares and daymares alike. He was a monster. When his sixth year would be over, he would have a corpse to show for it, whether it be Dumbledore's or his own, neither of which was a pleasant thought. A whole year at school, and he would have nothing positive to show. Nothing. Not even a little thing that had made his life worth living.

It wouldn't redeem him, he knew, but if he could do one good thing this school year, Draco thought that perhaps he wouldn't hate himself quite as much. If he could help one person, his life wouldn't be a complete waste. Who would let a Malfoy help them, though?

It was then that the mail station occurred to Draco. His name would mean nothing there, because no one would know they were writing to a Malfoy. There had to be someone he could help, even if it was just to let some girl spill her guts about how her boyfriend had ditched her. It wasn't much, but it was something. Perhaps it would even distract him from thinking about his impossible choice in every waking moment.

Maybe he could do _something_ good with his miserable life.

* * *

Draco climbed the stairs to the owlery, hands in his pockets, mulling over his mission and what a failure he was at life. Only a failure would have gotten himself into this bad a situation.

He approached the mail station, on the side with the open letters, and picked one up. He read it over. It was from a girl (presumably) talking about the party last night in the Ravenclaw common room. It was a very positive note, actually, except that she mentioned someone had stolen her shoes again. It didn't look like he could do this girl any good. He would keep his eyes open for shoes though. He rolled the parchment again and put it back.

The second letter he grabbed was from Ernie Macmillan (he had chosen to sign his name) complaining that he was bored. Well, if that was the full extent of what good he could do, looking for shoes and curing someone's boredom, Draco supposed he would. He had been hoping for something slightly - bigger - though. He rolled Macmillan's letter and put it back, opting to read a few more.

The next couple letters he read were of similar urgency. Fairly innocuous, not serious. Draco doubted that this would either distract him or ease his conscience. He sighed, and picked another letter to read. It was the last one he hadn't read, so it was either this one, or looking for some Ravenclaw's shoes.

_Dear whomever, (this is so stupid)_

_My name is...no call me Id. I'm writing this because I am keep a promise to a friend. I promised that I would write down what's been going on, and that when it got to be too much._

_Well, now is too much. I don't know how many more of these I can take. It just hurts too much. Why does it always have to be me? Why can't it be someone else for a change?_

_IS THERE ANYBODY LISTENING?! I just want to be left alone. This is too much!_

_I'm sorry. If you're reading this I shouldn't be taking this out on you. You don't even know me. Or who I am. If there is any good people out there, please. Please. I beg you. Help me. I know you don't know me, but please. I can't take it anymore. I, oh God, he's coming. No more. Please if your out there. Help ME!_

_Id_

Draco nodded as he reread the letter a second time. This was the one he would answer. It was dated for that day, so there was a good chance the author would check back for a response soon. He stuffed the letter in his pocket and went to the Slytherin dorm so he could answer it properly.

* * *

Later that evening, after supper, Draco snuck back to the owlery to drop his response on the other side of the mail station. It hadn't been hard to write his letter, and he was already feeling better for having taken this course of action. Perhaps he could sleep a bit better tonight, knowing that he was trying to do something good.

_Dear Id,_

_It's not stupid, to use the mail station, and it's certainly not stupid that you keep your promise to your friend._

_What is it, exactly, which has gotten to be too much? Trust me, I understand what you mean. The feelings can just overwhelm you, to the point where you feel like you'll suffocate. I'm here to listen (read?), and to help, but I'm not sure I count as a good person._

_Who is coming? Is there a threat to you here, at school?_

_I hope to hear back from you soon._

_The Monster in the Dark_

A small notice appeared above Draco's rolled parchment, announcing that Id had a message left for him.

* * *

**_Mandancie is basically co-authoring this with me. She is writing Id's letters, while I write Draco's. We have decided to not show each other the letters in advance, and we will see where our letter writing leads the story. Regrettably, I have about as much understanding of what Id is talking about in his first letter as you do._**

**_Please enjoy the story, and don't forget to review!_**


	2. The Monster in the Dark

Draco found himself thinking the rest of the night about Id and the letter. He was pleased with the effectiveness of the distraction, because, he realized, the Dark Lord hadn't crossed his mind all night.

He was lying on his bed, alone, looking up at the ceiling, although it wasn't quite time to turn in yet. He would check the mail station in the morning, and not before. While he might burn mental calories thinking about Id, he had no intention of being a pre-teen girl about this and hanging around the owlery, just waiting for a reply.

He began to wonder who Id could possibly be. A Slytherin? A Hufflepuff? God forbid, a Gryffindor? Could Id be one of his dorm mates, even? Whoever it was, Id sounded both scared and annoyed, and whatever his problem, Draco feared that it was actually a serious problem, not one about a relationship doomed to failure finally succumbing to the inevitable. It concerned him that someone who had as serious a problem as Id, whatever his problem actually was, didn't bring it to someone. Surely there was a teacher who could help him? Or even a friend? It puzzled and worried Draco that Id would write to the public mail station rather than bring it to a friend or a teacher.

It seemed Id did have at least one friend who cared about him - one who had made him promise to reach out if things "got to be too much." So maybe Id had gone to this friend, and he or she had determined the problem to be beyond what he or she could handle.

Then why do you think you can handle it, Draco? a small voice whispered.

Because I have to do something besides become a cold blooded killer, he replied.

He didn't know what he was going to be getting into, and he knew that. Whatever it was that he was getting into, though, it couldn't be nearly as bad as being a Death Eater, he figured. Nervously, he began to finger the outline of the Dark Mark on his left forearm.

One thing he was certainly grateful of in all this was the Snape's support. Snape, who also bore a Dark Mark, who, Draco suspected, would rather not. It wasn't anything Snape said, and it certainly wasn't anything Snape did. It was just a feeling he had. It was entirely possible, maybe even probable, that it was just wishful thinking, that he wanted someone to sympathize with his situation so much that he was willing to read something into a situation where nothing should be read. At the Death Eater meetings - Draco would always begin to think that perhaps he was mistaken, that Snape truly was a Death Eater like the best of them, a true follower of the Dark Lord. He would torture and kill the victims without any sign of remorse or hesitation.

It made Draco sick, to think of what happened at Death Eater meetings. How could anyone stand it? How could anyone be blind to the cruelty it took to act like that? Why had his father - and mother - ever gotten involved in it? Well, he supposed he could see his father getting involved. His father was pretty ruthless, at least about some things. His mother was always nice to him though. Maybe his mother had been sucked into it, something like he had. She was formerly a Black, after all, a family prominently involved in the Dark Arts and subsequently the Dark Lord. Upon marrying Lucius Malfoy, his mother had probably sealed her fate of always being involved with the Dark Lord, no matter what her personal opinions or preferences might be.

Draco remembered the Dark Lord scoffing at the idea of love at one point, calling it a weakness and a liability. Perhaps it was, if it made you do things that made you hate yourself after.

He didn't _want _to be a Death Eater. He didn't _want_ to kill Dumbledore. He didn't _want_ to torture and kill people. He didn't _want_ to be a monster. But that was what he was turning into, a monster in the dark.

He knew he wasn't that convincing an actor. It was the hight of foolishness to even think of believing that the Dark Lord thought him a loyal servant. Why didn't the Dark Lord just kill him right away? It would have made things much simpler. Heck, maybe he could even be a martyr or something. "Draco Malfoy - trapped between a world of Light and Dark, dies for his convictions." Nah, that certainly wasn't going to happen.

He was so scared of dying. He'd even had a few panic attacks over the thought, when it would strike him with cold reality that he had no other choice than to die at some point. Everyone died, some earlier, some later, some with the grace of a hero, and some with the terror of a coward. Draco hoped he would be the later, and he knew he would be the coward.

But why wasn't he a corpse already? The Dark Lord had sifted through his mind multiple times - a very painful thing - and Draco was no master of Occlumency. He wasn't fool enough to believe that the Dark Lord didn't know he had reservations about serving him. He didn't actually believe the Dark Lord thought it was acceptable to torture and kill people.

The only idea Draco had as to why he was still alive was that this _was_ his torture. Making him do the things that he least wanted to do, dangling his mother, even his father, over his head unless he did it. It might not be the typical physical torture of the meetings, but it was no less painful.

Maybe the Dark Lord didn't demand loyalty - maybe he just demanded predictability. Sure, Draco might have qualms with any number of things regarding the Death Eaters, but as long as the Dark Lord pushed his buttons in the right order, he would always do as commanded. So even if the Dark Lord knew he wasn't loyal, he also knew Draco would be dependable.

Draco wanted to vomit. He hated being manipulated like this. And the worst thing about it was that he _knew_ he was being manipulated, and couldn't do anything about it. He could see his enemy's plans, like a net, fall into place and tie him down, but he couldn't run and he couldn't fight.

With those thoughts, Draco finally drifted off to sleep, his dreams a muddle of Dark Marks and letters from Id.

* * *

Next morning, Draco's first thought was anticipation to see if Id had replied. He forced himself to take a shower and put on his uniform first, though. But not even stopping by the Great Hall, he rushed to the owlery. No one was around, which was lucky, because Draco was taking two or three steps a stride in his excitement, not a dignified thing for a Malfoy to do. He rushed to the mail station, and it didn't take him a moment to find the scroll addressed to "The Monster in the Dark." He grabbed the parchment and, without opening it, went back to the Great Hall for breakfast.

When he got there, Draco dished his plate with eggs, toast, and sausage, but didn't really pay attention to the food. He was absently eating as he unrolled the letter and read it.

_The Monster in the Dark,_

_I have to say that I'm surprised that you read my letter. I didn't think anyone actually responded. It's nothing, really. I was just venting. What can I say? Everyone says I'm a liar. No one believes me. So why should you really care? I don't know you. What is it that you really want? Why is helping me so important, now? And how can you understand how I feel? You don't know anything about how I feel! Don't mock me! I am a real person!_

_Id_

Draco's eyes narrowed at the letter. Well, obviously it was going to be harder to crack this riddle than asking a few simple questions. This was a challenge now, and Draco's curiosity was peaked. He was going to win Id's trust, and therefore his secrets, if it killed him. But how to gain the trust of someone you had never met? Who had never met you? As Id aptly pointed out, they didn't know each other, so what motivation could he give Id to tell him?

An idea struck Draco. Perhaps he couldn't give Id a motivation, properly speaking. But if he backed into it, Id might open up. Draco could write about himself and this might inspire Id to open up in return. A little bit of guilt involved, perhaps, if Id realized what he was doing.

Draco quickly pulled out a spare parchment and quill and began to sketch out a reply.

_Dear Id,_

_You may have been surprised that someone actually responded, but you hoped it would happen. Why else would you have checked back so quickly? Hope is the only thing stronger than fear._

_A liar? It would be extremely stupid to bring this up now unless you're not. And especially since your reputation - whatever it may be - does not precede you in an anonymous letter, it adds to the evidence that you are, in fact, telling the truth - whatever it may be. Why do people think you're a liar? Is it an incredible story, one that can't be verified? Like Potter's story about - _

Draco paused. He almost wrote "the Dark Lord" but that was what those who were either Death Eaters or close to Death Eaters called him. He didn't want to tip his hand to his identity, at least not yet.

_Like Potter's story about You-Know-Who? Of course, the story has since been verified. Personally, I believed that story from the beginning, even if I kept my mouth shut at the time._

_Your last litany of questions are actually quite closely related. Due to - difficulties - in my own life, I cannot explain everything in detail about myself. I'm a monster, and I don't want to be. I want to do something good this year. I want to help you because it will make me sleep better at night. I can know how you feel because sometimes - sometimes being a monster becomes too much, and I don't know what to do with myself. I suppose you could say that for the very reason I can understand is the reason why I've replied to you._

_I had never intended to mock you. Perhaps I will not be able to understand everything, but we won't know for sure until I know more. My apologies if you thought I was mocking you - that was never my intention. The reality of your person is very apparent to me. I doubted much of anything put a real person would be able to write back to me!_

Draco quickly scratched an "I'm teasing you" in parentheses, so that Id would read the last sentence in the joking manner in was intended.

_You never did answer my question - are you in danger at school?_

_The Monster in the Dark_

It took Draco the rest of breakfast to write out the letter, and when he finished, he realized he needed to run off to his first class, or he would be late. He quickly stuffed the reply in his bag and determined to make a detour to the mail station before lunch to deliver it.


	3. Alchemist

Draco's life became increasingly absorbed with the missives between himself and Id. He was determined to find out about this strange student if it was the last thing he did.

What Draco was acutely aware of, though, was that, just like he had no obligation to write to Id, Id had no obligation to write to him. If, at any point, he crossed the line with Id, this anonymous person could just not reply, and then he would never know who Id was or what was troubling him or her.

Draco suspected Id was a boy, just on the grounds of the wording. It was too strongly worded to be a girl, unless the girl was particularly boyish to begin with. Maybe the Granger girl would write a message like that. She spent enough time with boys that their writing style probably rubbed off on her. There were a couple other girls like that too, but statistically, if the patterns held true, Id was a boy.

The next morning, Draco rose, showered and dressed, like the previous morning, and also now in his routine, he checked the mail station, expecting a reply, which he found. He took it to the hall to read. This would become his new morning ritual, as would replying over breakfast, to drop the letter off at lunch, and to check back the next morning.

_The Monster in the Dark_

_Who the hell do you think you are?! You think this is funny?! THIS IS MY LIFE! You high and mighty people think that you can just come and rule over everything and everyone and think that if they do a little charity work then they are absolved from any wrong doing. Well, let me get this straight for you right now. I AM NOT YOUR CHARITY CASE! I am not here to help you sleep at night. That's not my job. So screw you and screw your charity. I don't need it. I don't even know why I'm still writing you._

_I'm tired. I'm just so tired. People are all the same. No one wants you. They just want to use you. I'm just a used up idiot. Yeah, that's right, my name is IDIOT. Because that's what I am; an idiot. Well, you want to know something about me? I tell you. I have people that are suppose to care about me, never lift a finger to help me. Not even with...no. I'm not going there. You don't care._

_Then I have people who don't even like me, said they don't like me, and do more for me than the ones who are supposed to love me._

_URGH!_

_I'm just tired. I just want this all to end, or stop. I just want this over. I just want to sleep and never wake up._

_Forget about me. (everybody else does)_

_Idiot_

Draco blinked several times at the letter, and reread it at least twice. This was becoming a matter of utmost delicacy very quickly. If he said one wrong word at this point, he was sure his correspondent would not reply.

Idiot? Id? Really? Draco had dismissed the name as being a reference to the instinctive part of the human psyche, discovered by that wizard named Freud. Perhaps there was still some connection between this person's id and his use of that pen name, Draco mused. He certainly wasn't going to address his letters to Id anymore, though. And he was going to tell this person such. He would just have to come up with a new pen name, if Id couldn't come up with something more flattering than that.

_Dear _

Draco spent long and hard trying to think of an appropriate yet not insulting pen name for Id. He was particularly amused by the idea "National Insecurity" but that seemed to be too much a dig at Id's already fragile self-esteem.

_Dear Alchemist (Id),_

_I refuse to use your chosen pen name just on principle. I compromised to putting it in parentheses so that you know this letter is for you. You are most certainly not an idiot. Who told you that you were? Your parents? A teacher? Both? Well, parents and teachers say those things, and they're not true. It doesn't excuse it, but not everything your parents say is true. Sometimes parents are wrong. I've always liked the word "alchemist." It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?_

_*sigh* An attempt at humor (because I gather that that is what you are upset about) does not mean that I don't take you seriously. I'm not a fool, much as you may take me for one. I know that a good deed doesn't cancel out a bad one. But a bad deed doesn't cancel out a good one either. I'm not looking for redemption. I'm not sure it's possible._

_Now, as far as the issue of this being charity, it is most certainly not. If you read my reason for responding to your letter, it was a very selfish reason. Charity is entirely noble and unselfish. Therefore, you can rest assured this isn't charity. If it were charity, I would have said something like "Because I want to make the world a better place" or some rubbish like that. As far as your obligation to help me is concerned, you're absolutely right. You have no obligation to help me, and I don't expect you to. I don't want pity, and I doubt you do either. If you choose not to write, that is your decision, but I hope you don't choose that. For some reason, I actually kind of like you._

_Yeah, people are jerks. People use each other all the time, and it doesn't get any better apparently. At least that's what I'm finding out. I'm sorry to hear that you're dealing with that. Not fun. But hey, not literally_ _everyone __is like that. There's a few good people out there - I think. You just have to find them. You said you have a friend - the one who made you promise to write when it got to be too much. Isn't he/she a good person? Obviously he/she cares about you, if he/she made you promise._

_You know, just because someone is supposed to care for you doesn't mean they will. I gather from what you wrote, you're no stranger to that thought. Well, neither am I. That's when you find someone who does care, and you hold on for dear life. When you've found someone who does give a crap about you, don't ever let that person go. I found someone who gave a crap about me, and, while I might be a pretty good situation myself right now, if it weren't for him, I'd be in a bigger one._

_Liking and loving are two different things. Is it possible that these people who don't like you actually do love you?_

_I need you to answer this question, and answer it honestly - are you truly suicidal? Or are you trying to find a way to express yourself?_

_You have also completely ignored a previous question (for a second time) and I intend to keep asking it until you answer. Are you in danger?_

_Give me one good reason why I should forget about you. Everyone else forgetting is, in fact, a reason why I should not. Remember, people are stupid. I would wager a bet that they've forgotten someone pretty important, then, if they've forgotten about you. Your friend doesn't seem to have forgotten either._

_The Monster in the Dark_


	4. The Power of Fear

Draco felt his Dark Mark burn red hot, a summons to a meeting. He felt sick to his stomach, but knew he had to go anyway. There was no benefit in not showing up when the Dark Lord called him, because he was easily traceable with the branding on his arm.

He immediately rushed to Snape's office, knowing that his professor had felt the same familiar pain and they could floo together to the meeting. It would be less conspicuous if he used Snape's floo rather than the one in the Slytherin common room. While Draco was sure most of his house harbored some suspicion as to his involvement with the Death Eaters, they didn't need any more confirmation than they already had.

He knocked on Snape's office door, and without waiting for Snape to respond, slipped in. The office was chilly, as usual, and dark. Snape was standing by the fire pulling his cloak around him.

"Hello, Draco," he said softly. Draco didn't meet Snape's eyes and simply nodded his return. Wordlessly, Snape put his hand on Draco's shoulder. Draco flinched, but Snape didn't say anything, not this time. Snape threw the floo powder into the fire and called out their destination. They stepped through the floo and appeared in a gloomy stone dungeon, not his own, Draco noted. Snape still had his arm around him protectively, for which Draco was grateful. He felt a little bit safer for his professor's support.

"Looking after the boy, are you, Severus?" Draco jumped at the sound of the Dark Lord's voice, sneering at him and his teacher, as he sat in nothing short of a throne.

"He's my student," Severus replied calmly. "Of course I look after him. To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?"

"Bella has found us quite a prize," the Dark Lord said, nodding his noseless face towards Bellatrix who looked giddy with sick apprehension. As if on cue, two masked Death Eaters brought a tied and cowed figure into the fire lit room. The prisoner was stumbling forward, and was thrown to the stone floor at the Dark Lord's feet.

"Who, my Lord?" Snape asked, his voice bored.

"Always curious to the identity of the prisoners," the Dark Lord mused. "It's always your first question."

"I prefer to know who we are about to torture," Snape replied, arching an eyebrow. "It makes each experience unique and knowing a person's identity allows one to torture so much more effectively."

It was comments like this that which made Draco wonder just how cooperative Snape was with the Death Eaters. Either he was the best actor Draco would ever have the honor to know, or he was just as evil as the rest of the Death Eaters. Possibly both were true.

"Of course those are excellent reasons, Severus," the Dark Lord replied. "This is just a Muggle though. I believe someone said his name was Michael Ross. But that is beside the point. He is a homeless vagabond, not even appreciated by the Muggles. He will not be missed. We can rest assured that we will be safe in having our fun with him." Snape nodded at this, but didn't vocalize any reaction.

Draco felt extremely sick at this point. He'd been forced to watch the slow torture and execution of helpless Muggles before, and he suffered nightmares for weeks after. The Death Eaters knew no bounds on the extent of their cruelty. Draco, of course, had little tolerance for Muggles, and he would readily admit he despised them, but that didn't mean he wanted to revel in their pain. They were still _human_ after all.

"Bella," the Dark Lord said, and Draco's aunt jumped at the ready as soon as her name was called. "I believe you can start us off tonight, since you brought him to us."

"Thank you, my Lord, thank you!" Bella exclaimed, clapping her hands like a small child. "Crucio!" she called, causing the Muggle to scream and writhe in agony, which seemed to only further her gleeful laughter. Draco tried to not watch. He cast his gaze upon a pebble on the floor as he began to push it around with his toe, listening to the Muggle beg for death. He still stood by Snape, and he tried to hide himself in his professor's shadow, hoping that everyone would forget about him and he could go back to Hogwarts.

"Severus," the Dark Lord said, "I believe it's time for you to take a turn and leave Draco. He's almost of age. He can stand on his own."

"Of course, my Lord," Snape replied with a gracious bow. Snape stepped close to the victim and pointed his wand lazily at the man who lay panting on the floor. Wordlessly, he cast what Draco assumed to be a Crucio. Snape looked bored with what he was doing and released the spell. He sighed.

"You don't look you're enjoying yourself nearly as much as dear Bella was," the Dark Lord said to Snape.

"Cold revenge is never as fulfilling as mad sadism," Snape replied. "Perhaps Bella would be better suited to this."

"No," the Dark Lord said thoughtfully as his snake-like eyes drifted towards Draco. "I think it's time for our newest Death Eater to try. He's been watching from the shadows long enough. Don't you agree, Severus?"

"If that is your wish, of course, my Lord," Snape replied. "I believe Bella would relish it more than Draco though."

"Bella can find another Muggle if she wishes to have more fun," the Dark Lord dismissed casually. Snape nodded deferentially and stepped back to the shadows, next to Draco, where he laid his hand on Draco's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly, or at least what Draco thought was reassuringly. Then, with a gentle nudge, Snape pushed Draco into the light before the Dark Lord.

"Do show me what you can do," the Dark Lord said, amused at Draco's clear hesitation.

"Cru-crucio," Draco stammered, trying to muster the strength to say the spell. A pitiful point of light shot from his wand, when it hit the Muggle, he just moaned, but didn't have any other reaction. Draco immediately looked to see what the Dark Lord's reaction was. It couldn't be good, he was sure. Instead, the Dark Lord's expression was impassive.

"You have to mean an unforgivable!" his aunt screamed from the other side. "You can't be half hearted about it. You have to mean it!"

"But I can't mean it!" Draco screamed back. "I mean - " He looked up at the Dark Lord again.

"Draco, you must learn to cast this curse," he said. "You have delayed long enough. You also haven't been particularly successful in your mission."

"I'm sorry, my Lord," Draco stammered next. "I've been trying. I have. It's just not working yet. Dumbledore will be dead by the end of the school year, I promise."

"Perhaps you can stay my wrath on your ineptitude if you learn to cast a good Crucio," the Dark Lord mused. Draco swallowed, unsure just how wrathful the Dark Lord would be. He steadied his wand again, and said the incantation. The result was no better than the first time, though.

"I'm sorry!" Draco screamed. The Dark Lord sighed and flicked his wand at Draco, who would have fallen and hit his head on the stone floor had Snape not rushed forward to grab the twitching boy at the last moment. Still in the throws of his own Crucio, Snape laid him gentle on the floor and backed away. Draco was vaguely aware that Snape caught him, and through his own agony, hoped that Snape wouldn't also be punished for having saved him a nasty concussion. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the pain was gone, and Draco lay gasping on the floor. He propped himself up on his hands.

"I'm sorry," Draco repeated between ragged breaths.

"I don't think you understand just how serious this is," the Dark Lord said, standing up and crouching next to Draco. He ran a chalk white hand through Draco's hair. Draco grimaced and flinched. "I want Dumbledore dead. Soon. Not at the end of the school year when you've finally decided to make up your mind on this."

"Please don't make me," Draco whimpered. "Please, I'll do anything. I don't want to kill anyone. I don't want to be a monster."

"What a disappointment you are to your parents," the Dark Lord mused as he cupped Draco's face in his hand. Draco shuddered. "Let me put it in terms you can understand, Draco. You will cast the Crucio on the Muggle, after a rest, of course, tonight, or I will simply end you now."

"What? My Lord!" Draco gasped. "Surely - "

"You are not producing on your mission," the Dark Lord said as he left Draco's side and sat in his throne again. "You are almost useless to me. Why shouldn't I kill you?"

"I'll do it!" Draco agreed, standing up, much faster than he should have, and he felt dizzy as his vision went out, and for the second time that night, Snape caught him.

"Rest," the Dark Lord instructed. "In fifteen minutes, Severus, bring the boy around, ready to cast the curse to save his life."

"Of course, my Lord," Snape replied. Snape scooped him up, like a little child, and brought him to a far corner of the dungeon and set him down. His dizziness had passed by then, and Draco was feeling some better. His hands still shook, whether from fear or residual pain, he didn't know.

"Draco," Snape hissed at him as he gave him a potion. Draco drank it without question, and his hands stilled.

"I'm sorry, sir," Draco murmured. "How can I cast it? Please help me!" Snape hesitated a moment, and if Draco were looking at him, he would have seen concern in Snape's eyes.

"Like your aunt said, you must mean the spell," Snape said quietly. "Why you mean it is beside the point. Focus on the fact that the Dark Lord has threatened your life when you're casting it."

"That will work?" Draco asked, hopefully.

"It should," Snape replied. "It has worked before, for others."

"Alright," Draco said, standing up. "I think I'm ready now."

"I'm sorry," Snape whispered, almost silently. Draco shrugged, unable to say anything in response for the lump in his throat. Draco marched back to the rest of the Death Eaters, cold determination in his eyes as for a third time he pointed his wand at the helpless Muggle. He took a deep breath and steeled his will, focusing on the fear that he had if he were killed tonight.

"Crucio!" The Muggle screamed in contorted agony, and Draco held the spell, impassively watching. What seemed like an eternity passed.

"That's enough," the Dark Lord finally said, and Draco gratefully released the spell. "Kill him."

"My Lord?" Draco replied.

"Kill him. Show me you have it in you to kill Dumbledore. I won't have you hesitating at the last minute when you've finally found a way to corner the old fool." Draco glanced at Snape who simply gazed back at him. He received no signal from his professor and he was lost without it. "Do it now, Draco, or I will still kill you."

"Yes, my Lord," Draco swallowed as his hand began to shake again.

"Use the Killing Curse," the Dark Lord instructed. "Don't waste your time on anything less than that." Draco bit his lip and concentrated on his fear.

"Avada Kedavra!" A green light shot out from his wand. It collided with the Muggle who slumped, lifeless, on the hard stone floor. Draco dropped his wand in horror. What had he done? What had he done?

"Good job, Draco," the Dark Lord commended from his throne, but Draco barely heard him over the clamor in his head. He barely felt Snape come up behind him and put both hands on his shoulders as he allowed Draco to lean against him. He barely heard Snape request to take him back to Hogwarts, and he barely heard the Dark Lord agree.

Snape steered him towards the floo and brought him back to his office. Draco fell in a heap on the floor as soon as he stepped out of the fireplace.

"Oh, God, what have I done?" he gasped. "I'm a monster."


	5. The Ethical Totem Pole

"Draco," Snape said, his voice actually surprisingly gentle. "I'm sorry." Draco began to dry heave and Snape summoned an old cauldron and Draco gratefully leaned over the edge and vomited the contents of his stomach into the rusty container. After completing that task, and several dry heaves later, Draco felt his wave of nausea pass. He rose cautiously, shaking all over, and refused to look at Snape.

He couldn't bare to look at the man, his mentor really, after what he had done. It was an act of cowardice, he knew, but he was a coward. If he had been brave, he would have been sorted in Gryffindor. The thought was almost enough to make him duck back over the cauldron. If he were Potter, now, he'd have stood tall and proud and told the Dark Lord to go take a long walk off a short pier. Potter was brave and righteous. He, Draco, on the other hand, was nothing but a coward and a monster. Snape must have seen the dark look cross his face, because at that moment, the man began to speak.

"Draco, you're not a monster," he said softly. "Contrary to what you said earlier." Oh, yes, he had said that.

"Yeah, I am," Draco muttered.

"You're not!" Snape replied urgently, not loudly though, for which Draco was grateful. He would have fallen apart, he thought, if someone had yelled at him now.

"You saw what happened," Draco said bitterly. "I killed someone."

"You're right that I saw what happened," Snape sighed. "You are what you make yourself, and if you don't make yourself a monster, you won't be."

_"I killed someone."_

"They made you do it," Snape reasoned. "He would have died anyway. Someone would have killed him. If not you, your aunt. He was a lost soul from the moment they picked him up. Try not to feel too badly about it, Draco. I'm so sorry. He was dead from before you saw him. The Dark Lord would likely have drawn out his suffering even more if you had not been there to kill him. Try to take some consolation in that; you made his passing easier."

"Is that how you justify this to yourself?" Draco rasped, turning away from Snape.

"Yes," Snape whispered softly.

"Does it work?" he choked out.

"No," Snape admitted even more quietly. "I'm sorry." Snape stepped close to Draco and laid what was supposed to be a comforting hand on Draco's shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" Draco shouted as he whirled on Snape. He eyes were almost spilling over with tears, but sheer determination was keeping them back.

"I'm sorry," Snape repeated, holding his hands up in a peace offering. "I was only trying to help."

"You can't help me!" Draco screamed. "You can't make me feel better! I should be the dead one right now! I'm nothing but a stinking coward and a monster! I should have said no!"

"Draco, in the pressure of the moment, it's not always that easy," Snape said, his tone still calm.

"I should be dead now!"

"Survivor's guilt," Snape dismissed. "You'll get used to it."

"I don't want to get used to it!"

"I'm sorry," Snape repeated for how many times that night Draco couldn't remember.

"Not your fault," Draco muttered as he rushed towards the door out of Snape's office. He just wanted to out from under the man's gaze.

"Draco, don't go doing anything you'll regret!" Snape called after him. Draco paused for a moment.

"I won't," he replied. "I promise."

* * *

It was almost morning as it was, Draco noticed. He could catch a few hours of sleep, hopefully, before breakfast, and then classes. He was exhausted, and even though his conscience was far from leaving him alone at the moment, his sleep-deprived brain was able to shut his conscience off long enough to fall into bed into unconsciousness. He had had the presence of mind to take a dreamless sleep potion before falling asleep though. He couldn't afford nightmares tonight, not with only a precious few hours of sleep at all that night.

Next morning, he woke to the sounds of his dorm mates preparing themselves for the day. He dressed and showered as quickly as he could before any of his dorm mates could ask any questions. He thought they had learned by now to keep him out of things, but he couldn't be too sure. He'd tried to be a bastard to everyone this year. It was safer that way.

Well, everyone except Alchemist. Thinking of which, Draco made his usual detour to the mail station, hoping to find a letter there. He needed a letter. And he found one.

_The Monster in the Dark_

_I am so sorry. I am so ashamed of myself. You have done nothing to deserve that. I shouldn't have yelled. I'm not really angry at what you said. And I knew that it was a joke. I- I just had a really bad day. And when I read your letter, it was just the final straw._

_You see, I'm not a good person. I'm not an Alchemist. I AM an idiot. I am Id. It was very nice of you to want to change my name, but after the last letter, there is no way I can accept that name, Alchemist. It has power behind it. It means strength. Two things right now, that I do not have. I am not a good person. And the way that I treated you shows that. If you don't ever want to send me any more missives I will completely understand. You want to know something, the same friend who told me to start writing the letters in the first place got angry with me when they saw the letter that I sent you. They didn't tell me that they read it until after I sent it._

_After my ears stopped ringing, I felt so bad._

_So to end this here and now, no I am not suicidal, but I have thought about it. I mean so much will be all done and over with if I just die._

_And two, yes I am in danger. My danger is more awful than you can imagine (or maybe you can)._

_I just want this war to be over. I just want someone to love me for me and not what I'm suppose to stand for. I just- I guess I just want to have a normal year at school._

_I hope that you write back. But if not I completely understand._

_Idiot. (sorry I just can't call my self that. I AM an idiot to hurt someone who is only trying to help me.)_

Draco, still short on sleep and as emotionally wounded as he still was from the previous night, held the letter in his hands and felt himself begin to lose control as he reread it, because it seemed that Alchemist was under some impression that he, Draco, was better than what he had just described about himself. That anyone, even a stranger, could still think well enough of him to apologize was what touched Draco deeply. He quickly pulled out his quill and parchment, because of course he was going to reply.

_Dear Alchemist,_

_I will continue to call you Alchemist. If anyone is the strong one here, it's you. You would never have apologized if you knew me in real life, I'm sure. No one would apologize to me, not sincerely. I neither deserve it nor desire it. But you did apologize, unnecessary though it was. I mean, that has a strength in it, doesn't it? I'm not sure I've ever apologized to someone. Rest assured that your non-existent offense is forgiven. Tell your friend not to fret over it, and that they should apologize for getting angry with you. It wasn't worth getting angry about._

_Now, honestly, if we're going to compete for a place on the bottom of the ethical totem pole, I would advise you not compete with me. I will wager anything that I'm a worse person than you._

_I had a bad day yesterday too. A person died. It was my fault. I don't think you can compare any lapse in ethics you've ever had to killing someone. Believe me when I say that between the two of us, you're the good one._

_Well, try not to kill yourself. I'm sure your friend would be pretty upset if you did that. Okay? You have at least one friend who cares. That's more than I have._

_There are different kinds of danger. Mental, emotional, physical, spiritual - at least one other kind I can think of. Let's go with the idea that I can imagine your danger, until we prove otherwise. What is the nature of your danger? Is there a specific someone who is targeting you?_

_You and me both. I'm tired of this war too. Can't anyone see what it's doing to us? If nothing else, I wish the mothers could find some solidarity and stop the war. There's children involved - on both sides. You know that's what happened in Ireland when the fighting got so bad that they were bombing a thing called a school bus. That's a metal box that moves around to take Muggles places. It's really bizarre. And bombs are a thing that explodes. It's kind of like a spell, I guess. Maybe you know more about Muggles than I do. That adult I told you about - the one who gave a crap about my life - told me this story. But anyway, children were traveling in them, and both sides were killing the children. And then the mothers got together and decided to put a stop to all the stupid fighting._

_I suppose my mother would have to love me first though. You never did tell me who called you an idiot. My father called me that too. Making a mistake doesn't make you an idiot though. I suppose making a mistake just makes you human. You had a bad day, and you needed to vent. That's fine and if you ever need to vent again, I'll listen._

_Thanks for writing back. It's been one beacon of light for me today. It was one of those mornings were you wake up and everything is worse than when you fell asleep._

_My apologies. I just noticed how long winded I've been. I didn't mean to take up so much of your time. And it's almost time for class, I see, and I haven't touched the food, though I can't say I want to. I hope your day is more pleasant than mine._

_The Monster in the Dark_


	6. Detention

Draco quietly entered the Defense classroom. He was dreading this moment, because he'd have to face Snape after having stormed out on him last night. He hoped Snape wouldn't be out for his blood.

Ah, and there was Mr. Golden-Boy-Who-Lived himself, Draco sneered.

"Hello, Potter," Draco spat as he walked to the other side of the room, but he stood face to face with Potter when the other boy stood. "Ready to get your guts splattered all over the wall?"

"Get lost, Malfoy," Potter shot back. "You don't even know how much better this room would look with your guts as decoration." Draco internally winced, but he had asked for it, he supposed. Antagonizing Potter actually was a stress reliever for him. Few people could bring out the smart, cutting remarks the way Potter could. But before he could come up with another witty comeback, Snape blew into the classroom.

"Potter," Snape said softly, but not less threateningly, "sit down this moment and quit provoking Mr. Malfoy." Potter sighed dramatically, but complied with the order. Snape's eyes flashed as he glared at Potter. Draco quickly sat in his usual seat in the back of the classroom.

"Today will be a practical lesson," Snape drawled from the front of the classroom where he paced back and forth. "The Headmaster has given me permission to teach you a curse - extremely useful - which is the sister curse to the Cruciatus.

"It has not been declared an Unforgivable due to its lack of long term effects like the Cruciatus. Whereas prolonged exposure to a Cruciatus will leave you a drooling idiot," Snape's eyes flicked momentarily to Longbottom, "prolonged exposure to this curse will do nothing other than extend your agony. In many ways it is a much more - merciful - curse, and it can easily be disguised as a Cruciatus if done wordlessly."

"What is the purpose of learning this?" Granger's hand shot up as she asked the question. Snape sneered at her.

"It is useful when you wish to convince your enemies you are that ruthless, while either not wishing lasting effects upon your victim or not wishing to land in Azkaban." Snape looked at him, Draco, momentarily, but Draco dropped his gaze and began to furiously take notes. "Now, if there are no more _ridiculous_ questions, I will begin a demonstration with a colleague of mine."

Snape drew his wand and dramatically blasted the door open. If there was one thing Draco could take away from listening to Snape's classes, it was presentation. No one had presentation quite like Snape. Of course, the whole class wanted to know which professor would have agreed to help with a demonstration like that. Draco grimaced when McGonagall walked through the door. It made sense when Draco thought about it. As far as getting along went, Snape seemed to be able to tolerate McGonagall more than some of the other professors. She was a skilled witch and fairly open minded. Plus, Draco suspected she a member of the Order of the Phoenix, so if Dumbledore had given Snape permission to teach this, McGonagall would not only have had to do what her boss ordered, but her superior in the resistance too.

Potter and his gang seemed to relax a bit in her presence.

"Professor McGonagall has agreed to help me demonstrate this curse," Snape continued. "Like an unforgivable, you have to mean this spell." Once again his eyes fell on Draco. "So I will pair you up today with someone you will be most likely to mean such a spell with. Potter, Mr. Malfoy!" Draco had seen that one coming as soon as Snape announced his philosophy for pairing them up. And honestly, if Potter thought that Draco enjoyed this pairing anymore than he did, he was sorely mistaken. The necessity to perform well had just skyrocketed. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard Snape continuing to call out obnoxious pairings.

"Well?" Snape snapped. "What are you waiting for? Find your partners!"

Draco found Potter with little difficulty and the two of them eyed each other warily.

"Before you do anything," Snape continued when all the students were in position, "watch, while Professor McGonagall casts the spell on me. You will watch wand motions and listen to her incantation. I don't plan on undergoing this more than strictly necessary." He stood glowering at his students for a moment and then tossed his wand on his desk. He faced McGonagall and signaled her he was ready.

McGonagall raised her wand and nodded at him.

"Angoro!" she screamed as waved her wand in an S formation, bringing it up sharply at the end. Snape screwed his eyes shut and leaned against his desk, but he never let out a sound at the torment. He raised his hand slightly, and McGonagall stopped the curse.

"So get to it!" Snape shouted at them. "You saw the spell. Professor McGonagall will help you if you need help." Then he added to her, more quietly, though Draco heard, "If you need another demonstration, let me know. I just need to sit down for a moment."

"Of course, Severus," she replied.

"So, Potter," Draco taunted, turning to his opponent. "Scared yet?"

"We had this conversation in second year," Potter said coldly. "You wish." Draco didn't waste any time getting down to business. He focused on his long established rivalry with Potter, his jealousy of the boy, and his anger, fear, and guilt from the night previous. He knew he was capable of casting such a curse. The fact that he still lived that day proved it.

"Angoro!" Draco screamed and a shot of light left his wand. Potter stepped out of the way and it hit the wall. The whole class stopped to watch how this would finish.

"Really, Malfoy," Potter drawled, and Draco suddenly realized it was an imitation of Snape. "What sort of a pathetic display was that? Can't the heir to the Malfoy estate do any better than that?" The two were so focused on each other that they didn't see Snape get up from where he was resting to come over to them.

"Watch me," Draco hissed in reply. "Angoro!" Potter screamed and fell to his knees. "Expelliarmus!" Any hope Potter had of a countercurse flew out of his hand with his wand. "Immobulus!" Potter found his couldn't move. "Flipendo!" Potter flipped over on his back, still unable to move. "Incarcerous!" Ropes grew up from the ground and tied Potter down. Draco would have gone on with his list of incantations against Potter, who was now on his back, writhing and screaming, his wand useless next to him on the floor, except that Snape, who was closer than his colleague, chose to intervene at that moment.

"Finite incantem!" he shouted and all of Draco's spells were cut short. Draco was brought out of his delirium of anger, and realized that no good could come to him from the look on Snape's face. Snape stepped over to Potter and eyed him coldly. Potter, who had regained mobility, cringed away from Snape's proximity.

"Goading Mr. Malfoy and mocking a teacher, Potter?" Snape's soft voice came. Potter looked shocked for a moment, speechless.

"I - It was just - " Potter stammered, once he was on his feet and he backed up a step.

"Detention," Snape sighed and turned away from the situation.

"And you're just going to let Mr. Malfoy off?" McGonagall said, astonished. Snape turned, looked at her, but didn't reply. His expression was unreadable.

"Mr. Malfoy, I'm a professor here," McGonagall continued, entirely unnecessarily, "so I will assign you a detention. You will serve your detention with Professor Snape with Mr. Potter tonight. Severus, you will treat them the same for once."

"You can't do that!" Snape shouted at her.

"I'm the deputy headmistress!" she reminded him, equally loudly. "Albus will listen to me if you would rather we go to him about this!"

"Fine," Snape hissed at her. "You have no idea what's best for my students, but fine!"

* * *

Class had finished without any more incidents. At least nothing major. But Draco still did have a detention that night, with Potter and Snape. He internally groaned at the thought of just how horrible that was going to be. He was sure it would be something truly horrible like having to talk to Potter nicely. His only hopeful thought was that Snape hated Potter as much as he did.

He got to Snape's office and knocked. This time he waited for an answer, and Snape opened the door. Draco looked over his shoulder and saw Potter sprinting down the hallway. At least Snape didn't have to answer the door twice, Draco thought.

Wordlessly, Snape eyed both of them with a disgusted look on his face and closed the door after they had both entered.

"Draco, you may begin writing an essay on why losing your temper may prove fatal someday and ways you will learn to control your temper," he said coldly. "Potter, wash out the cauldrons." He gestured to a pile of at least a dozen gooed up cauldrons.

"What about treating us the same?" Potter challenged. No, no, no, you don't challenge Snape when he has that look on his face, Draco thought, his eyes widening some. What was Potter thinking?

"I am treating you the same," Snape replied, more calmly than Draco thought possible. "If Draco's last name were Potter, he would be scrubbing cauldrons too." Draco quickly ducked his head to grab a parchment and quill from his bag before he would have to meet Potter's inevitable gaze.

He saw what Snape was doing, at least for him. If he lost his temper around Death Eaters, it would be a fatal mistake. He would have to learn how to take goading from anyone and everyone or he would quickly end up dead. Draco glued his eyes to his paper and began to write. As his quill made annoying scratching sounds on the paper, he could hear Potter scrubbing at the cauldrons.

Once in a while Draco risked a glance at Potter, and saw that the cauldrons were some of the worst possible. The goo was all over the outside and the insides of them, and he could see that it was half hardened as well. Some of those cauldrons were big enough that Potter pulled them on their sides and crawled inside to get a better angle on the goo. Potter was careful to always leave one foot outside the cauldron though to make sure it didn't go rolling away with him inside. Perhaps Potter had learned that the hard way, Draco thought.

This whole detention was clearly unfair, Draco realized and shrugged it off. It wasn't his fault and there wasn't anything he could do about it really. He might as well finish his essay. He had plans he needed to work on and enact before tomorrow's sun set.

When Snape dismissed both of them, Draco noticed Snape slip Potter a vial of potion. No words, no explanation, but Draco thought it looked like a pain relieving potion, perhaps with a couple other potions mixed in. Draco was relieved that Potter wouldn't have to suffer longer from any effects his curses may have left on the other boy's person.


	7. What Would You Do if I Killed Myself?

Draco had a plan, and by the end of the day, it would be set in motion, and no turning back. Not even the Dark Lord was going to be able to stop this, and that was a large part of the beauty, Draco thought. He had not made mention of this to anyone, but someone should know. That someone would be Alchemist, the only student to have actually spoken to him without prejudice the whole semester. Not that he actually deserved to be treated well at the hands of his peers. God knew he never treated them well, but sometimes it might be nice to have a "Good morning" or a sincere "How are you?"

The blond boy picked up the letter from Alchemist and went to breakfast.

_The Monster in the Dark_

_To know that you still consider me an Alchemist after the way I treated you means a lot to me. I don't deserve it. I don't know what happened with you, why you feel that your day, week, month, year is more worse than mine, and right now, I'm too tired to even go back and forth between 'who's got the worse life' game. So I'll end that right here and say it's a draw. We're both screwed. I have had a day like no other. I was in a pain that I can't describe. The hurt that was going through me from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. But, I guess I deserved that. For everything I've done, I guess it's atonement for all the hurt I've caused others. I knew I shouldn't have egged him on, especially with the Professors there, but I couldn't stop myself._

_But deep down I was glad that it happened. It kept him away from me for tonight. Other things came up and I couldn't go with him. At least I'll rest easier tonight. Now all I have to do is worry about tomorrow._

_Thank you for giving me another chance._

_I feel like I am making this one sided. I vented to you. It's only fair if you vent to me as well. Maybe we can help each other out._

_Who knows, we may even become friends._

_Alchemist (Idiot)_

So it was likely his correspondent was in his year, in his defense class, or at least that would make sense considering what the (very painful) effects of their lesson the previous day had been. That still left a good number of students though. Ah, well, it really didn't matter what Alchemist's identity was. Nothing mattered at this point, and Draco felt more at peace than he had in a long time. He was free. He pulled out his quill and began writing.

_Dear Alchemist,_

_Let me begin with my condolences on your day. I will agree that the sixth year defense class wasn't an easy one, but Professor Snape had his reasons for teaching that curse. (It's the only thing of consequence that happened yesterday to cause anyone that kind of pain.) If you'll notice, he didn't subject us to anything he wasn't willing to undergo himself. Professor McGonagall cast the curse on him before any of us cast it on each other. There are lots of teachers who wouldn't do that for us. In a backhanded way, it really was for our betterment that we learn it._

_I would argue with your statement that you deserved to have that curse cast at you, but I'm also too tired to argue about it. I'm glad that whatever your plight is, you didn't have to worry about it last night. Best of luck with resolving it._

_I don't think there's anything you can do to help me, but thank you for your offer. There's something I need to tell you._

Draco paused, unsure how to continue.

_It's not right that I'm alive. I was given a choice two nights ago, kill or be killed. I chose to kill an innocent man to protect my own life and I shouldn't have done that. I should have done the right thing and died that night. Well, I'm going to fix that. I'm going to be forced to kill again, Alchemist, and I won't be able to stand up like that. I'm not that strong._

_This will be for the best. I'm going to jump from the astronomy tower after classes today. Not that attending classes is very important if I'm going to die today anyway, but I think it's because I want to see one of the teachers one last time._

_I guess I'm telling you this because I have to tell someone, and I don't have anyone else. You're already my friend. I don't want you to feel sad or guilty about this though. You've given me something to look forward to every day (our letters) and you've been nicer than most to me. On my list of reasons not to do this, you've been the top reason._

_Don't forget that you're not an idiot, please. There's teachers who will help you. Sometimes they're the most unlikely ones, but they'll help if you just ask them. Rely on your friend._

_I just have one favor to ask of you. Since there will be only one student jumping off the astronomy tower this afternoon, you will know who I am by sunset. I only ask that at my funeral, you get up and make a statement about me. Mention the letters. Tell them that I didn't want to be who I was. I might have been a monster but I didn't want that. I would like it if at least one person says the truth about me there._

_Of course, you don't have to do that, if you don't want to. It won't matter, not really. I'll be dead, and I won't know or care what you do._

_Thank you for having spent your time with me. It's been wonderful._

_The Monster in the Dark_

Draco signed the letter with his pen name and folded it carefully. Without eating any food, he rose and went to his first class.

* * *

Draco stood at the top of the astronomy tower and looked over the edge. It was a dizzying height. Did he really want to do this? He ran his fingers over the rough, cold stone, running through the pros and cons of his plan one last time.

Cons were that Alchemist might be worse off without him. He was scared of dying. He didn't really want to die. He wanted to have a full, long life, marry, have children.

Pros were there the Dark Lord wouldn't be able to control him anymore. He couldn't be threatened, whether with his own life or his family's lives, into doing anything he didn't want to do. He would never have to kill or be killed again. He wouldn't be responsible for Dumbledore's death. He wouldn't have anything more to do with this stupid, stupid war.

You know, maybe having a Malfoy die over this was something that would wake the world up some. Maybe there'd be some good come out of it. His death would likely be well-publicized. If Alchemist did make a speech at his funeral, the world would know why he did it. The Death Eaters would even know more details. Maybe the other mothers would understand that their children might feel the same way, and they would put a stop to this insanity.

The cold air whipped his blond hair into his eyes, and he brushed it back with his hand. He was steeling his will to jump. A soft pop next to him caught his attention and Draco looked at the floor next to his feet. A roll of parchment had appeared there, with the small banner that read "The Monster in the Dark."

So Alchemist had gotten the letter and was clever enough to find a way to send the letter directly. Interesting. It would save time always side-tracking to the mail station. Ah, but it actually didn't matter. Neither of them would side-tracking there any time soon, he thought. But he should at least do Alchemist the courtesy of reading the letter. Draco bent over and picked it up, unrolling it.

_The Monster in the Dark,_

_DON'T YOU DARE MOVE! I'm on my way. I just got my friend to show me how to get this to you. Don't you dare jump. It may be selfish of me, but I need you. You have no idea how much your letters meant to me. You CAN NOT die. I won't let you._

_Alchemist_

Draco released the letter and watched it parchment float to the ground. He heard footsteps running up the stairs. Alchemist, presumably. He would soon know who he had been writing to. It was almost scary, the thought of meeting the person he'd been unburdening his soul to. He couldn't bear to look when he knew Alchemist had reached the top. He just kept looking at his shoes. He knew Alchemist was standing there for a moment before he spoke.

"Well, this is a bit awkward," a familiar voice said.


	8. The Heart of a Lion

Draco's eyes snapped up at the sound of the voice.

"Potter?" he gasped. "You're Alchemist?" Harry leaned against the doorway.

"You've got to be kidding me. You..."

"It's alright," Draco replied softly, gaze dropping back to his feet. "You can leave. I know you would rather see me at the bottom of the tower anyway. Sorry to have disturbed you."

"What are you going on about?" Harry said, as he walked out on to the balcony. "I came here to stop 'The Monster in the Dark,' and that's what I plan on doing. Even if it is you." Harry slid down the balcony wall till he was on the floor. He crossed his legs and looked up at Malfoy. He couldn't believe that all this time it was Malfoy that he bore his soul to. Told him things about himself, but if he were honest, Malfoy did the same thing. "Well, sit down," Harry said. Draco hastily sat next to Potter, but pulled his knees protectively up towards his chest. They sat in silence for a moment.

"Sorry if my identity disappointed you," Draco said quickly.

"Malfoy," Harry started. "I... I don't care who you were. I don't care what you think you did. You can't die. Not now. Not ever." Harry laid his head back against the wall. Draco snorted.

"I think humanity will catch up to me some day and I'll die whether I like it or not," he replied, smiling a little ruefully. He bit the inside of his cheek while he tried to think of something else to say. "Are you feeling better? From yesterday in defense?"

Harry chuckled. It wasn't a humorous laugh. He closed his eyes, sighed and looked at Draco. He could see that Draco was really hoping that he was okay, that the potions really did work.

"I'm fine, Draco," Harry said. "The potion that Snape gave me worked. I stop shaking this morning."

"Good," Draco replied. "I saw him hand it to you. I hoped it would."

"You remember when I told you that I get more support and care from people that hate me then the ones that suppose to care?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Draco said. "You meant Snape? He's a good man. Don't tell him about this, please! He'd be so disappointed in me if he knew I'd tried to kill myself."

"Yeah," Harry huffed out. "Like he would believe me. The man hates me. You know that. He won't believe a word I say. And you want to know the irony of the whole thing is? That Snape's been there for me, behind the shadows, since first year." Harry sighed dejectedly. "Like I said, my life is screwed. The man that really hates my guts, and really has justifiable reasons to hate me, has helped me since the beginning. How screwed up is that?"

"'Has justifiable reasons to hate you'?" Draco quoted, sneering a bit. "What kind of reasons are those? Breathing? Everyone knows Snape is entirely unfair to you."

Harry looked at Draco incredulously. Draco couldn't be saying this about his favorite teacher. This was the same man who just yesterday gave Draco just an essay to do, but had Harry scrubbing cauldrons. This is the same man that favored Draco since that first day in Potions. How could he really feel this way about Snape? Wait, Harry thought. Am I really defending Snape?

Harry put his head down. This wasn't happening. This wasn't right. Draco Malfoy was defending Harry and Harry was defending Snape.

Draco took Harry's silence as a cue to continue.

"Your life might be pretty screwed up," he admitted quietly, "but I'd still trade lives in a heartbeat."

"Trust me, you don't want my life," Harry said in a rush. He was happy for the change in subject. Thinking that he was actually defending Snape - a man that had no qualms of bullying and ridiculing him in front of the entire school - made my head hurt. Harry looked down at his watch and saw what time it was. He visibly started to shake. Harry needed an excuse, any kind of excuse. He looked at Draco. "Curse me." Harry's eyes were pleading him.

"What?" Draco replied, looking horrified. "I don't want to curse you! What are you - " Realization dawned on Draco's face. "It's that man you mentioned. Who is he? I'll curse him to hell and back for you."

"I don't have time to explain. If I don't have a good reason to not be there, he's going to come looking for me. I don't want to go. I hate going with him." Harry's voice was in pure panic mode. "CURSE ME!" Harry looked from Draco to the doorway. "Please don't make me beg. Use the curse. Then get Snape." Draco's eyes widened at the sheer terror Harry was displaying. It was better to do as he was told, Draco supposed, and ask questions later.

"Fine," Draco agreed reluctantly. "I've done worse for more selfish reasons." He stood and drew his wand. It took a moment to consciously steady his hand as he looked at Alchemist, Harry nodded to Draco to let him know it was going to be alright. He knew that Draco was struggling with this, but it was the only choice he had. "Angoro!"

Harry jerked in pain when the curse hit him. Hitting his head on the wall behind him. He slumped over on his side. Every nerve from head to toe was in excruciating pain. Draco released the spell as soon as he felt was safe and leaned over Harry who was lying on his back.

"Th-thank y-you, m-my fri-friend," Harry stuttered out.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Draco assured him. "And I'll bring Snape."

* * *

Draco ran down the astronomy tower stairs and through the hallways like he had never run before, ignoring any strange looks his was getting. He had one thought on his mind and that was to get Snape to the top of the tower as soon as possible. Unless he managed to convince Snape in the few five seconds that the matter was of utmost urgency, he was sure his professor would want to ask all number of questions before doing anything. Being sweaty and out of breath wasn't a choice - it was a necessity.

He reached Snape's office in record time and began ceaselessly pounding on the thick wooden door. His knocking echoed through the hallway. Another thing to show Snape how serious he was in his request. Finally, the door opened.

"Draco!" Snape said, a bit of curiosity creeping into his tone. "What's wrong?" Draco slipped into the office, panting.

"Do you remember - ," he began, and sucked in a large gulp of air, " - when you told me - that you weren't helping me - because I was a Malfoy?"

"Yes," Snape replied cautiously.

"And do you remember - when you said - you were helping me - because I was - your student?"

"Yes."

"Another student - needs your help."

"Who?" Snape demanded.

"Doesn't matter," Draco dismissed, catching his breath finally. "We need to have been at the top of the astronomy tower five minutes ago."

"Alright," Snape agreed. "Lead the way."

* * *

When Draco and Snape made it to the top of the astronomy tower, there was no one there.

* * *

**_All of Harry's lines and thoughts were written by mandancie. All of Draco's lines and thoughts were written by yours truly. I do believe it will be this way for the rest of the story._**

**_Please don't bother asking what happened to Harry. I truly don't know, and it's driving me about as nuts as it's driving you, I'm sure._**


	9. The Cunning of a Snake

Harry watched Draco leave the tower. He couldn't help the small smile on his face. He didn't have to go. He so did not want to go. He hated going every time. The only reprieve he got was from detention. The shaking was starting to subside. A few minutes later, he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Draco was coming and that meant Snape was coming. He never thought the idea of Snape coming would bring a smile to his face, but it did.

Still shaking a bit, Harry turned his head to face the doorway.

"D-draco?" Harry tried to stop his voice from shaking.

"Draco?" the person said. "Now why would Draco be coming here."

When Harry heard the voice and looked up at who was at the doorway, the smile left his face. Sheer fear graced his features.

"N-no, please," Harry tried to sit up to move away but his arms weren't working the way he would like.

The man walked over to Harry and knelt down by him.

* * *

Draco's eyes fell on the place where Harry had been, but it was vacant. Quickly, his eyes darted about the astronomy tower to see if Harry had crawled into a corner to nurse his invisible wounds. But Harry was no where to be seen.

"What is the meaning of this, Draco?" Snape asked wearily.

"I don't know, sir!" Draco said, his voice bordering on hysterics. He brought his arms around his head protectively. "Harry - I mean, Potter - was in trouble! He asked for you!"

"Potter?" Snape said the word with disgust. "It sounds like you've been hallucinating. Back to my office."

"But Harry's in trouble! We need to find him!" Draco insisted.

"Has it occurred to you and perhaps Potter was playing a trick on you?" Snape asked as he turned to leave the tower. "You fell for it headlong, if he was. I advise you dismiss the situation from your mind."

"It wasn't a prank!" Draco insisted.

"How do you know?"

"Potter and I - we were writing letters in the mail station," Draco spilled suddenly. "We didn't know it was each other until today. Please, we've got to help him."

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, are you suicidal?!" Snape hissed. Draco blinked suddenly. Was Snape being literal?

"Um - " Draco stalled.

"You're rubbish at Occlumency!" Snape shouted. "You make Potter look like a skilled Occlumens!"

"You're not a good teacher!" Draco shouted back.

"How are you going to hide a friendship with the Dark Lord's nemesis from him?" Draco's jaw worked up and down.

"I don't care," Draco finally said sullenly. "We need to help him! You said you would always help your students!"

"Fine," Snape growled. "We're not going to be able to help him here and without more information. Back to my office and we can try to sort this out."

* * *

When Draco and Snape returned to his office, Draco produced his letters with Alchemist and sat across from Snape, as the man settled down behind his desk.

"Why were you at the astronomy tower anyway?" Snape asked casually. Draco swallowed and his eyes dropped. He mumbled something. "What? Speak clearly."

"Just enjoying the view," Draco repeated.

"_Are_ you suicidal?" Snape asked quietly. Draco winced, but nodded almost imperceptibly. It was better to give Snape all the information he had so that he could help Harry the best of his ability.

"I'm sorry," Draco apologized suddenly. He'd been doing more apologizing today than he ever had in his whole life. "Please don't hate me. I never meant to let you down. Can we just help Harry right now?"

"You realize you won't live long enough to commit suicide if you throw your lot in with Potter?" Snape asked quietly. Draco nodded.

"Here are the letters he wrote," Draco volunteered, laying the parchments in front of his professor. Snape picked them up and scanned through them.

"So there's a man who is targeting Potter?" Snape questioned.

"Yes," Draco confirmed breathlessly. "I don't know who it is. Potter never told. I - I told Potter about my plans this afternoon. He came up there to stop me. We talked for a bit, and then he asked me to curse him, because if he was cursed, he wouldn't have to go with the man."

"Go with the man?" Snape echoed.

"Yes," Draco said. "I didn't want to - but he was so scared, and it was what he was begging me to do, so I did. And he asked for me to get you, so I did, and then he was gone, and I just made him an easy target with that curse." Draco hid his face in his hands suddenly.

"Maybe, maybe not," Snape dismissed. "It isn't important. What's done is done. So Potter gave you no hints as to the identity of this man this afternoon?"

"No, sir," Draco said, pulling himself together a bit. "But there has to be a limited number of people who fit the description of 'man' at Hogwarts." It was a puzzle. Draco liked puzzles. If he just kept thinking of it like that, he might be able to keep control of himself. "There's Dumbledore. He wouldn't hurt Potter if his life depended on it. There's Flitwick. He's much too nice to hurt Potter. There's you, but you're innocent of that charge just because I was with you when Potter was taken. There's Slughorn - " Draco paused.

"Yes?" Snape prompted.

"What if it's Slughorn?" Draco asked. "Slughorn is always trying to suck up to people he thinks are powerful or influential. The Slug Club." Draco grimaced at the memory of the parties. "What if he's manipulating Harry somehow?"

"I don't think Professor Slughorn is that malintentioned," Snape said.

"Maybe not," Draco agreed. "But he's still a possibility! Wait!"

"What is it?"

"Filch! Filch hates everyone, _especially_ Potter."

"A much more likely theory," Snape approved. "I believe Filch is the most likely suspect on that list so far. Remember the Headmaster is aware of every spell cast within Hogwarts, where, when, and by whom. Perhaps Professor Dumbledore was simply aware that you cursed Harry and went to take him to the infirmary."

"We can check if he's there, then, can't we?" Draco asked.

"Yes, let me floo call Madame Pomfrey. I am sure she will tell us the location of one elusive Harry Potter if she knows." Snape stood and after throwing some floo powder into the fireplace, stuck his head in.

"Poppy!" he called.

"Yes, Severus?" Draco heard.

"Please tell me you have Mr. Potter in the infirmary."

"No, Severus," Madame Pomfrey's worried voice came. "Has he been hurt?"

"Not anything I wouldn't be able to take care of," Snape replied. "No need to worry. Let me know if you find him though."

"Alright," Madame Pomfrey agreed. "Is something wrong?"

"I - am not sure," Severus replied haltingly. "Just let me know if you find him." Without further ado, Snape cut off the floo call.

"Not in the infirmary," Snape announced, frowning a bit. "Are you sure you've not blown this out of proportion?"

"Does it look like those letters are blowing it out of proportion? Potter asked me to curse him, for crying out loud!" Draco wrung his hands, and added quietly. "Alchemist was my only friend this year. I don't want anything to happen to him." He began to pace.

"I know," Snape replied, still looking concerned.

"Granger and Weasley!" Draco suddenly said. "They have to know what's going on."

"Entirely possible," Snape conceded. "Do you wish me to come along?"

"Professor Snape and Draco Malfoy demanding the whereabouts of Harry Potter," Draco muttered. "It doesn't sound like your presence would encourage them to tell. Perhaps if I tell them that I was the one who Potter wrote to. He mentioned his friend in there, you saw. I think that must be Granger."

"Then find her and ask," Snape advised. "Let me know what you find. Be quick."

"Yes, sir," Draco replied as he darted for the door and left.

* * *

After quickly searching the castle and not finding Granger or Weasley anywhere, Draco found the entrance to the Gryffindor common rooms and waited outside, much to the Old Lady's dismay.

A first year came down the hallway. He seemed hesitant when he spotted Draco lingering in the shadows.

"Hey you," Draco said, not harshly. "Can you find Hermione Granger or Ronald Weasley for me? I need to talk to either one or both of them."

"You're going to hurt them!" the first year accused. Draco rolled his eyes. Only a Gryffindor would come out with an accusation that bluntly.

"I promise I won't," Draco replied.

"Nope," the first year said. "Not good enough."

"Fine," Draco said. "As a sign of my good faith, here's my wand." He held it out to the first year. "Find Granger and Weasley, give them my wand, and tell them to come out here. There isn't much I can do without it." The little first year grabbed the wand and muttered the password. He disappeared, and a couple minutes later, Granger and Weasley came out of the lion's den.

"Malfoy!" Weasley said. "What do you want?"

"Listen to me," Draco replied, showing his empty hands to them. "I'm the Monster in the Dark. Potter's gone missing. Someone's been targeting him, and I'm trying to find him."

"You're - ?" Granger cut herself off. Draco sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically.

"We don't have _time_ for this!" he said. "Yes, I'm the one Potter was writing to. Yes, I'm the one he got snippy with, and yes, I'm the one who has been trying to help him. We ended up meeting today, and he asked me to go get someone to help him, and when I got back, he was gone. He's not in the infirmary."

"You don't know what's happened to him?" Weasley asked suspiciously. "You were the last to see him, apparently."

"Oh my gosh," Draco said. "If I wanted to bring harm to Potter, I would not be here asking you!"

"Snape has to be behind it," Weasley said to Granger, who gave him a withering look.

"Weasley, will you stop being thick?" Draco shouted, no longer caring who heard. "Potter asked me to bring Snape to help him! Snape isn't behind it!"

"We'll start looking for Harry," Granger promised. "Thank you. You've been rather decent, in your letters, I mean."

"Thank you," Draco replied. "If you find anything - " Draco looked at them nervously, not able to finish the request.

"We'll let you know," Granger replied. "Here's your wand back." Draco accepted it, and then turned after nodding his farewell to Potter's friends.

* * *

Harry woke up. He was lying on a tattered bed. Everything was blurry. He tried to lift his arm to search for his glasses, but he was still too weak from the curse that Draco cast on him. He closed his eyes and realized that he was the biggest fool there was. He just made himself a sitting duck asking Draco to curse him. Why would he think that being cursed would keep him away? He really was an idiot. Idiot. There is no other name than that. Idiot. And now, Harry knew that since he wasn't on the Astronomy tower, Draco was going to blame himself for leaving Harry. How could he be so stupid?

The footsteps got closer and closer. Harry heard them come in the room and he felt the man sitting on the bed.

"I know you're awake," he said. "I want you to take this."

Harry didn't move. He didn't want to take anything that the man was going to give. He really hated this man. This man was someone who said they loved him and cared for him.

When Harry wouldn't open his mouth or acknowledge that someone said something to him, Harry felt him grip his cheeks tightly forcing Harry to open his mouth. Harry shrieked in pain. He poured the potion down Harry's throat.

Harry recognized the potion as the same one that Professor Snape had given him the night of his detention. As Harry cough and choked down the potion, he knew that soon it was going to start because he would not be shaking from the curse any more. His one leverage was going to be gone.

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes. He hated his life. He hated what he was going to be made to do. He didn't want to do this anymore. Now, at this moment, he wished he was with his 'Monster' rather than on this tattered bed.

"I'll be back. Once this potion takes effect," he said. "We will continue on our training."

Harry felt the man get up off the bed and he heard the footsteps receding out of the room. Tears spilled from his eyes as he turned on his side and cried.

* * *

**mandancie -** Here's Harry's part!

**The Lonely God With a Box - ** What are you doing to poor Harry? You can't do this!

**mandancie - **I'm sorry! I don't mean to be evil! It just sort of happens.

**The Lonely God With a Box - **I'm supposed to be the evil one here. Draco, the readers, me, we're all going nuts over this!

**mandancie - **You'll just have to wait and find out.

**The Lonely God With a Box - ***is reduced to glaring at the computer screen*


	10. The Darkest Night

Draco rushed back to Snape's office, and granted himself entrance without knocking. He had run all the way back and was panting again by the time he finished his marathon.

"They don't know," he announced while trying to catch his breath. Snape sat behind his desk and watched him expectantly.

"That is actually more than a little disconcerting," Snape observed, almost casually, though Draco knew not to believe Snape's tone. He was actually more worried than he let on, Draco thought. Heaven forbid someone actually think he cared!

"They said they'd try to find him," Draco continued.

"Of course," Snape said. "And their efforts will be fruitless because they're simply students and do not have my resources at their disposal."

"You'll look for him, then?" Draco asked hopefully.

"Miscreant though he is, he still is my student," Snape pointed out. "Regrettably."

"You're too hard on him," Draco whined. "All those cauldrons you gave him? While I got an essay?"

"Look, Draco," Snape sighed, standing up and grabbing his cloak from a nearby hook on the wall. "I was certainly not going to give you a punishment so close to what you would receive at home. I am not like your parents. I've gone over this before with you."

"I know," Draco sighed. "Still."

"I'm going to speak with the Headmaster about Potter's absence," Snape announced suddenly. "Since this is essentially happening because of your involvement with Potter, I do believe you should come along."

"What?" Draco gasped. "No! I can't go! It's Dumbledore we're talking about. I'm supposed to kill him!"

"I haven't forgotten that tiny bit of information, Draco," Snape drawled. "But I need you to come along, or it will look like I'm the one concerned with Potter's disappearance."

"You know how rubbish I am at Occlumency," Draco said through gritted teeth. "If the Dark Lord sees that you and I and Dumbledore were together in a room, and he's not dead by tonight, we'll both suffer for it." Snape nodded thoughtfully.

"Alright," he agreed after a moment. "I will just have to suffer the Headmaster's compliments on how I've come to care about the boy."

"It's better than other things I can think of," Draco muttered under his breath.

"Wait here until I return," Snape instructed, and left his office.

* * *

"Headmaster," Snape addressed the old man sitting opposite where he was standing. "Do you know the whereabouts of Mr. Potter?"

"No, Severus, I am not privy to every student's every movement," Dumbledore replied, curious. "Why do you ask?"

"No one appears to know where he is," Snape continued.

"Why so concerned? You've never been this way before."

"Potter failed to show for a detention," Snape lied coolly.

"I'm sure he'll be around for it eventually," Dumbledore dismissed.

"You seem to be taking the absence of your star pupil rather casually," Snape pointed out. "It would seem that since the danger to his person has only increased as he's gotten older, you would be more concerned about any reports that he is missing."

"I'm sure he and his friends are just doing something that teenagers are wont to do," Dumbledore explained, almost sounding a bit exasperated. "Give Harry another detention if you are so inclined, if he's skipped out on the one you've already assigned him. I don't see any need to worry." Snape's nostrils flared slightly as Dumbledore began to read an old tome laying on his desk.

"Well, fine," Snape shrugged. "If that's how you feel about it, I see no reason to further disturb you with possible threats to the little urchin's life." Dumbledore made a casual sound of acknowledgement, which actually said that Dumbledore couldn't have cared less what Snape was saying. Without a dismissal, Snape stormed out of Dumbledore's office, heading back to his own, to think of something else.

He wasn't going to let Draco have a nervous breakdown over Potter's absence. It had nothing to do with the fact that Potter was Lily's child and he had sworn to protect the boy. Nothing at all.

* * *

Before he actually made it to his office, Snape abruptly changed destination to check with McGonagall. Perhaps she knew what was going on with Potter. He was her student too, after all.

"Minerva?" he called as he stepped into her office. "Where is Potter?"

"Have you checked the common room?" she suggested.

"Am I correct in assuming that is a version of 'I don't know'?"

"I suppose," she replied. "Is something wrong?"

"Only that no one in this entire school knows why he missed his detention," Snape drawled. "I expected you to keep better track of your students than Albus at least."

"Severus!" McGonagall admonished. "You can't expect me to believe that _you _know the exact location of every one of your students at any given moment." Severus felt his left forearm twinge.

"Perhaps not," he agreed, more to end the conversation than anything else. "If you could ask after Potter's whereabouts, that would be most appreciated."

"Of course!" McGonagall said. "I certainly don't want him mixed up in anything dangerous." Snape snorted indignantly. As though being marked at the age of one by the greatest Dark wizard the world had ever known wasn't mixed up in anything dangerous. But he would accept the help, nevertheless.

* * *

"Professor!" Draco sighed when Snape rushed into his office.

"I know, Draco," Snape said. "We have only a few minutes. You need to learn to occlude and I have a grand total of ten minutes to teach you, or you will be beyond what I can save tonight."

"Alright," Draco said. "Then teach me."

"Grief," Snape instructed. "Grief is the key. Focus on that, and the Dark Lord won't be able to look into your mind." Draco looked horrified for a moment.

"I would have had to have cared if someone lived or died and then lost them," Draco murmured.

"Potter is dead," Snape announced.

"What?" Draco cried. "He can't be!"

"Yes, he is," Snape said again. "The wards around Potter's home have fallen. There is only one reasonable explanation. He must be dead."

"No, no, no!" Draco screamed. "He can't be dead!" Tears rose in Draco's eyes. This was all his fault. If he hadn't left Harry alone, then maybe his Alchemist would still be alive.

"Focus on your grief then," Snape continued. "The Dark Lord won't be able to stand it and will stay out of your mind. He can't stand grief, and he won't see what it's about, only that it would burn his very soul if he were to look into your mind." Draco simply nodded.

"Then let us leave."

* * *

Harry woke up again to the sounds of footsteps. They were different from the footfalls of before, but these footsteps caused his breath to quicken and his heartbeat to speed up. Harry didn't want to deal with him anymore. He always made him hurt. And always made him hurt others.

"Wake up, Potter," the grungy voice said.

He didn't want to acknowledge that order. He didn't want to wake up. He didn't want to get up. Getting up meant that he was going to be hurt. He didn't want to hurt. This hurt was going to last longer than the physical pain.

"I'm going to tell you one more time to wake up," the grungy voice was getting angry now.

Please, please, Harry wished. Just go away. Leave me alone.

"Fine," the grungy voice said. "If you don't want to get up on your own, then I'll just have to make you. Crucio!"

Harry's screams could be heard all around the room. This was definitely different from the curse that Draco cast on him. This actually hurt ten times worse. It seemed like he would not let up. Harry felt he was loosing himself. He wanted to plead for him to stop, but the words just couldn't come out.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he let up. The curse stopped. Harry's body involuntary jerked from the nerve damage of the Crucio curse. Harry was loosing his battle with consciousness again. But before all went dark he heard the grungy voice say, "I'll let you decide. Next time I won't be so lenient."

Those footfalls were the last thing that Harry heard before everything went dark again.

* * *

**The Lonely God With a Box - **You're hurting my poor Harry! *snatches him away* You're not allowed to play with him until you learn to play nice!

**mandancie - **Hypocrite. Haven't you read your other stories?

**The Lonely God With a Box -** You have a point there.


	11. The Supreme Irony of Life

**mandancie**** - **I'm going to tell you who the man is in this chapter!

**The Lonely God With a Box - **Hmph. It's about time!

* * *

As Draco reached for the floo powder to leave for the accursed Death Eater meeting, Snape put a hand on his arm. Then his professor slipped a small object in the outer pocket of his robes.

"A portkey," Snape explained. "In case the Dark Lord brings up Dumbledore. At the first mention of the man's name in connection to yours, I want you to use the portkey, understand?"

"But - but - " Draco stammered, a look of pure horror on his face. "I'll be a sitting duck."

"The portkey will take you to the shrieking shack," Snape continued. "If you must use it, then you will stay there until you hear from me. At my first available opportunity, I will be around to collect you. Under _no circumstances_ are you to leave that shack. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir," Draco said. "The Dark Lord will still kill me. Why not now rather than later?"

"Because if I have anything to say about it, the Dark Lord won't kill you," Snape argued. "Now quit trying to die and let me help you."

"They'll know you helped me."

"Possibly," Snape dismissed. "And because of that, it might be awhile until I can contact you. I have no idea how long I may be detained if you suddenly disappear and they decide to keep me over it. I don't care if you're hungry and cold in that shack. You won't die for some time, but if you are out and about to be seen by the student body, then I can assure you, you will die. Take your chances with anything at the shack. Do you promise?"

"Yes, sir, I promise," Draco said.

"Not like the last time, when you promised not to end your own life, I hope," Snape said coldly.

"I promised not to do anything I would regret," Draco muttered. Snape hissed and slapped him very lightly on the back of his head. Then Snape pulled him close. Draco knew better than to accuse his professor of affection. Snape was just trying to make sure he didn't get soot in his face while they flooed, Draco reasoned. It was good to know someone cared.

"Remember, grief," Snape intoned as they entered the fireplace.

* * *

The meeting was appropriately boring, Draco realized as he leaned forward in his seat, resting his arms and chin on the table in front of him, hoping that he could just leave quietly soon. He kept up his brooding over Potter.

Why, why, why? Life was always so unfair. And for once, Draco wasn't worried that he had gotten shorted in life. Rather he was reflecting on how terribly unfair it was that Potter had to deal with everything that came along with being the Boy-Who-Lived, and then was dead. It added insult to injury that he had been a part of it. Draco winced internally.

He had never meant to help the man who terrorized Potter, whoever he was. It just happened. It wasn't his fault.

Ah, but it was. He should have told Potter that it was a stupid idea in the first place and brought Potter with him to Snape. That would have been a much smarter plan, actually.

But in the moment, he hadn't seen it. Something which he knew was a fatal mistake, not seeing the better plans. He had always thought it would be his life he lost over it though. Draco tried to suppress a sigh as he continued to entertain these gloomy thoughts.

It would have been better that Potter have let him jump this afternoon. If he had jumped, then he wouldn't have cursed Alchemist. Things would have been much better.

A cruel smile crept over Draco's features as he imagined the kind of fun the Dark Lord would have with whoever was responsible for killing Potter. He might not be the one to want to initiate the worst of torture on people, but in this case, Draco thought he could make an exception and conveniently turn a blind eye to whoever wanted to be the perpetrator of that particular excursion.

"Draco."

The use of his name brought him from his private reverie. He looked up, and saw the Dark Lord watching him intently. Careful to avoid eye contact - there was no reason to instigate trouble - he sat up a little straighter.

"Yes, my Lord?" Draco replied.

"How is the task with Dumbledore going?"

"Well, sir," Draco began, unsure if he meant that the job was going well, or using it as a filler. Snape, who was sitting next to him, kicked him from under the table. Draco's eyes shot over to his professor who nodded imperceptibly.

"Draco, I expect your full attention when I speak," the Dark Lord said patiently.

"Yes, my Lord," Draco replied, eyes still glued to the table. He could feel Snape's gaze boring holes into him.

"And how does it fare with Dumbledore?" the Dark Lord pressed.

"As always," Draco replied casually, looking up for the first time with a defiant flick of his hair. He didn't care if he died that night, but if he was going to die, he would at least do it with style. He heard Snape suck in his breath, and the next thing he knew, Snape had shoved his, Draco's, hand into his pocket to activate the portkey for him. As he disappeared, he vaguely heard the Dark Lord scream for someone to stop him, but it was too late.

Draco reappeared on the floor of the shrieking shack, landing smack on his backside.

"Ouch!" he cried. He began to stand, rubbing his offended backside. He felt a surge of anger at Snape for both ruining his plan, and putting himself in such danger. There was no way the Dark Lord was going to overlook what was obviously an attempt to save his life. Draco looked up and saw the reflection of a red light. He fell back to the floor, unconscious.

"Well, well, well," the grungy voice said. "Look who just dropped in." He looked over the unconscious from of the teenager on the floor. "Well, little lamb," he said picking up the boy. "Time to join the slaughter."

* * *

Every part of Harry hurt. There wasn't one part of him that was not in pain. He tried to turn his head, but dizziness caused bile to come up the back of his throat. He really did not feel good. He really just wished that they would kill him and let this all be over. He just wasn't going to go through this again. He knew he wasn't strong enough. He could not do what they were making him do. Not any more. It was not fun. It had never been fun. All those people gone for no reason, just to 'train.' That's what they always told him, when he didn't want to do it anymore.

It was for the good of the Wizarding community. But what about him? Wasn't he worth it? He didn't want to do this anymore. He was tired of killing. He's tired of the torture. He just wanted it all to stop.

Harry opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling. One thought went through his mind; I wonder where Draco is?

Harry couldn't help the small smile that was on his lips. Here he laid, waiting on his next bout of torture, thinking about someone that made his life hell for the past five years with his taunting. Here he laid hoping that everything was alright with his friend. Friend. Really. Five years of being an enemy and now, after a few letters they were friends.

A small chuckle graced Harry's lips. But the bliss did not last long because of the pain.

His small peace didn't last long. Footsteps were getting closer to his room. Harry thought about closing his eyes again, but the last time he feigned sleep, he woke up in excruciating pain. So he accepted his fate and waited for his next bout of torture to begin.

Louder and louder, the footfalls came. Harry's heart was beating out of his chest. Fear and anxiety was creeping throughout his entire body. When the man came to the door, Harry saw that he was carrying someone. Harry just saw a black robe and he got a sinking feeling in his stomach. He knew that his lessons were about to start again.

(Oh how he hated his lessons!) The man put the body on the floor. Harry struggled to sit up. There was just something in him that kept edging him to see who his captor brought. Every move a struggle, Harry clawed his way to the end of the tattered bed and looked over on the floor.

Despair began to fill Harry. Even without his glasses, seeing the white blonde hair, he knew exactly who it was.

No no no no no no no! Harry thought. He couldn't. He wouldn't. There was no way he was going to hurt his friend.

They were friends now. Draco listened to him when no one else would. Even though it was a short talk, Harry enjoyed their talk on the Astronomy tower just the same. No arguing. No fighting. No cursing each other. Just two boys talking.

"Well," the grungy voice said. "Today, I have a special treat for you. Today, you're going to cast the _Avada Kedavra. _And what better way to do it, than on a Death Eater right here?"

Of course Draco was a Death Eater. Harry had spent the best part of the school year trying to get others to see that. But that didn't mean that he should die! Harry looked up at his captor and, for the first time, spoke.

"Please," Harry begged. "Don't make me."

"You will perform that curse," he said. "You must learn to deal in the Dark Arts. That's the only way to defeat them." He pointed at Draco's unconscious body. "Now, get up and cast the spell."

Harry wearily got up, but looked at his captor, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Please, Professor Moody," Harry pleaded. "Please don't make me kill him."

* * *

**The Lonely God With a Box** **- **I thought of him too!

**mandancie - **Suuuure, you did.


	12. From the Frying Pan into the Fire

"You will kill this Death Eater."

"Please don't make me. Not Draco." Harry tried to stand, but his legs were still weak.

Moody had a rage in his eye that made Harry shrink back to the head of the bed. Moody took a step towards the bed, then pulled his wand out, looked down at the blonde headed boy unconscious on the floor, pointed it and yelled. "Crucio!"

Harry had never seen someone under that curse while they were unconscious. He never wanted to see that again. The withering. The screaming. A person looses everything when under that curse and now Draco was being humiliated in the worse way. The smell was telling, but when he saw the dampness in his trousers, all Harry wanted was for Moody to stop.

"STOP! PLEASE!" Harry screamed over Draco's screaming. "Please, just let him be. I'll do whatever you want to somebody else. Just not Draco. Please."

Moody looked over at Harry with disgust. He let the curse go on Draco. The room became silent again. Draco still did not wake. Everything that happened was reflexes and nerves.

Moody pointed his wand at Harry.

"Stop," Moody voice was dripping with disgust. "You plead for a Death Eater. You disgust me, Potter. You will learn."

Harry knew that look on his face. He didn't want this to happen. Not again. Slowly he tried to slide back to the other end of the bed away from Moody. Moody pointed his wand at Harry.

"Imperio," Moody said with a smirk.

Harry froze at the end of the bed. He hated this curse. He had no control over his limbs. Harry felt himself standing. Oh, the pain from the curse before and now being forced to stand! The pain was excruciating. He felt his legs walking towards Draco body. Tears were welling up in his eyes. Whatever he was going to do, he knew he wasn't going to like it. He felt his hands go to his belt and start unbuckling it. He knew he was standing by Draco.

Harry had a suspicion of what Moody was about to make him do. When he felt the button on his pants pop open, he knew he really did not want to do whatever his former professor was thinking.

"P-please...Pro...fess...or," Harry struggled out. "D-dd..don't m-make me."

Moody looked at Harry and lifted the curse. Harry fell unceremoniously next to Draco. He pulled himself closer to Draco and tried to wake him.

"You know Harry," a grungy voice pierced the now silent room. "You're pleas will not always work. You will cast the killing curse. You will Crucio this Death Eater. And if you want to live the rest of the day, You. Will. Stop. Interrupting. Me."

Harry tried to curl up in a ball. When Moody stepped away from him, Harry pulled himself closer to Draco, gripping the other boy's robes, shaking them a little.

"Draco," Harry whispered. "Draco, please. Wake up."

Moody walked over to them and looked at Harry. He pointed his wand at Draco.

"Rennervate."

* * *

Severus glanced around once Draco had disappeared. It was obvious from the looks on the others' faces that they had seen what had happened. Well, Severus thought wryly, so be it then. He would just have to deal with the fallout of his actions like he always did. Immediately he began to think of ways of explaining what he had done. He had only a few moments before someone acted. He truly wished to avoid dying that night. Dying really wasn't on his list of things to do that night, and it would put quite a crimp in the idea of handing out his Defense finals. But then, it was a cursed position.

"Severus," the Dark Lord addressed him, quite patiently. "Step forward." Severus rose and stood before the Dark Lord, head bowed slightly, out of respect.

"Yes, my Lord?" Severus replied.

"If you would care to explain why you thwarted my intent, so blatantly in my sight," the Dark Lord continued, "that would be appreciated. I do not look forward to killing my best potions master tonight."

"My Lord," Severus began, "before the school year began, when you commissioned Draco to kill the Headmaster, Narcissa and Bella came to me and Narcissa asked an Unbreakable Vow from me to protect Draco - to carry out his mission should he fail. While such an action was naturally displeasing to me, Bellatrix created the ultimatum that if I did not take the Vow, it was because I was not truly loyal to you. Of course I needed to convince her of my unfailing loyalty, since your word wasn't good enough for her." His eyes slid over to where she now stood, furious. "Since I am bound by this Vow, my Lord, and have no wish to test its boundaries, for fear of my life, it was only natural that I try to protect the boy from what, according to your previous threat, would likely be a death sentence. I am prepared to suffer for my actions, my Lord, but that is my defense." Severus bowed, slightly, at the waist, awaiting his master's verdict.

There was a pregnant silence as everyone listened carefully what what the Dark Lord would say. No one spoke. No one moved. Severus himself held his breath.

"Narcissa? Bella?" the Dark Lord finally said. "Is this true?" Narcissa nodded mutely, and Bella stepped forward in front of her sister.

"My Lord, I apologize for doubting your word," she began. "What Snape says is true, but it was only because of how he has refused to suffer for you, as your loyalest have."

"Bella," the Dark Lord replied softly, "it is my decision to determine who is loyal and who is not. You have overstepped your bounds."

"I am truly sorry," Bella repeated. "Punish me in any way you see fit."

"I will see to your punishment, personally, later tonight," the Dark Lord said casually. Severus wasn't sure if the look on Bella's face was terror or elation, perhaps both. But then, the Dark Lord turned to him once again.

"You, on the other hand, Severus," the Dark Lord said, "will be punished now. Bella's was a private crime, to be punished privately, while yours was a public one. It is only fitting that you be punished publicly as well."

"As you wish," Severus agreed.

"I will begin," the Dark Lord said. "The rest of you may have your fun after. Do what you will to him, but leave him alive and sane, or you will receive a worse punishment than his." His followers nodded their assent. "Crucio!"

Severus collapsed and his muscles stiffened to the breaking point with the effort not to writhe. He bit his lip to keep from screaming out until he could feel blood flowing freely. The spell was released, and Severus found himself on his hands and knees, with a small pool of blood growing as it continued to drip from his chin. If he wasn't careful, he was going to chew his lip right off, Severus realized. Perhaps it would be better to simply forego what few scraps of dignity he had left and scream like a child. He smeared blood on the back of his hand, and found himself mesmerized by the bright red liquid.

The next thing Severus knew, the Dark Lord had him by the roots of his hair and shook him firmly, finally forcing him to look upon his noseless features.

"This is for your disobedience," he began, "but I understand your reasons. That is the only thing that stands between you and death. I hope you know that, Severus."

"I do, my Lord," Severus gasped, his neck still held in a painful position. He gasped when the Dark Lord let him go.

"Do as you may," the Dark Lord instructed dismissively. "Do not kill him. Leave him intact, mentally and physically. As long as it can be healed, you may do it." There were quiet, urgent whispers among the other Death Eaters. Severus didn't care to try to focus on their content.

Perhaps he should have though, because the next thing he knew, he let out a shout of surprise, entirely unintentional, as he found himself dangled in the air by his heel. He neither knew nor cared to know who had cast the spell, but whoever it was, that person certainly had an excellent of psychological torture. It was not a painful spell, physically, but the person had to know what it signified to him and was exploiting that.

Severus didn't want to give them the satisfaction of hearing him beg, but if they were going to be as ruthless as he feared, he thought he just might. In many ways, that scared him more than the thought of the pain, which in itself was enough to make him feel sick.

Abruptly, the spell was cut short, and Severus fell into an unseemly heap on the floor with a grunt. He knew he would receive no mercy from the other Death Eaters, if for no other reason than the Dark Lord would wander through their minds later to see that each had participated in the event properly, since he had left. Perhaps that was why he had left - so that the others would fear for their safety and torture him all the worse.

Time ceases to exist when a person is in enough pain, and it didn't take long for Severus to reach that point. The Death Eaters were careful to give him breaks and rests between Crucio's if only for the sake of his sanity. Severus didn't know how long he lasted until he broke and began to beg and cry for mercy that would never come.

Finally, both physically and mentally exhausted, he felt consciousness slipping out of his grasp. Instinctively, he fought to hold on, simply because when he was unconscious he couldn't know what was happening and he was more vulnerable. But his resistance didn't last long, and he lay passed out on the cold, stone floor.

It was at that point that the other Death Eaters presumed their assignment finished, for fear of pushing Severus too far. In a few minutes, all of them had filed out and disapparated from the room, leaving Severus alone.

Some time later, Severus groggily pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, wincing as pain shot through all his nerves. He almost jumped when the floo next to him flared to life. Ignoring the pain, Severus quickly scrambled to his feet, suddenly realizing what a bad idea that had been when his vision tunneled. He stumbled closer to the table where he braced himself against it until his vision cleared.

"Severus," a familiar voice said.

"You're supposed to be in Azkaban," Severus replied, his voice dripping acid. "What are you doing here?"

"Sirius Black isn't the only one who can orchestrate and breakout," Lucius Malfoy replied, his voice a bit hesitant, if such a thing were possible.

"Leave me alone, Lucius," Severus sighed. "I have things I need to see to." Severus stood straight and tried to step over to the floo. Lucius put a hand on his shoulder and Severus paused.

"You look like you've been through hell."

"That's one way of putting it," Severus snorted. "Now let me go." He brushed Lucius' hand aside.

"No, Severus," Lucius contradicted, grabbing his wrist instead. "We need to go somewhere together. It's urgent." Severus sighed.

"I promise you, whatever it is you have, my errand is more urgent. Can we postpone this outing?"

"No, we can't," Lucius insisted. And with that, Lucius took Severus with him in side-along apparition.

The shock of apparition was strong enough, combined with the still recent torture, that when Severus' feet hit the floor, he vomited.

* * *

There was a loud gasp coming from Draco. Harry tried to sit up. He gripped Draco's robes and brought him closer to him.

Draco looked up and saw Harry. A small smile graced his lips. Harry was looking down at him. Harry was alive.

"You're alive," Draco gasped.

Harry's brow creased.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Are you alright?" A smell of ammonia assaulted Draco nose, and his eyes fell on the wet spot on his trousers. Weakly, Draco sighed.

"A Crucio, I suppose?"

"I'm so sorry, Draco. The last thing I wanted was for you to get involved in this." Draco smiled softly as he turned his head towards Harry.

"Don't worry," he said. "I've been involved from birth. So what's been happening when I've been indisposed?" His voice dropped much quieter. "Please tell me quickly before our Death Eater hating friend over there decides that we can't talk anymore."

"They've been training me. This is where I've been going all year," Harry said.

"And if he doesn't shape up," Moody said walking back in the room, "he's going to end up just like you, Malfoy." Draco raised a skeptical eyebrow, and seemed to fight back an indignant snort.

"Oh, I highly doubt you'll ever have to worry about Potter being a Death Eater," Draco said offhandedly. "Unless you continue terrorizing him like you are. I mean - " Draco tried to sit up some more and winced " - it's not like you're doing much to convince him to _want_ to fight for you."

Moody looked at Draco with both eyes. An evil smirk graced his lips as he cocked an eyebrow at the boy on the floor. He took an ominous step towards Harry and Draco. Just looking at Draco, Draco started withering in pain. A scream escaped Draco's lips. Harry tried to move closer to Draco and try to take the brunt of the spell, but found that he couldn't move.

"You see, Harry," Moody growled out, still looking at Draco. "Soon you will learn to cast this spell without a wand."

"Stop! Stop, please," Harry tried to move from his invisible bonds.

After another minute, Harry watched as Moody's magical eye seemed to move and look behind his head. Once that happened, the curse was lifted off of Draco and Harry. Draco was on his back trying to control his breathing. Harry, still weak from the earlier curse, tried to move closer to Draco.

"Well, well, finally," Moody said turning and walking out of the room. "It's about time you showed up. Good, you brought him."

"Of course I brought him," a voice snapped. Draco had managed to laugh while under the threat of certain death from Mad-Eye Moody, but suddenly his cocky mask crumbled away. He looked at Harry, horrified.

"Please, Harry," Draco pleaded quietly. "Believe me when I say I didn't know. He's supposed to be in Azkaban!"

Harry, from where he was sitting, had a better vantage point. He could see who Moody was talking to. When he saw Lucius Malfoy, he blanched. But what made he even more scared than normal, was he saw who Lucius was holding. Harry looked at who Lucius had and then looked down at Draco, fear in his eyes.

"Let me go, Lucius!" a third voice growled. Draco felt like giving up. His only hope of rescue had failed. Harry could see the despair wash over Draco.

"We're dead," Draco whispered. "Just kill me now and get it over with quickly." Draco's breathing became rapid and shallow. "Please."

Snape stumbled into the room, Malfoy Sr. and Moody on either side of him. Snape's sharp eyes darted around the room, and Draco could almost feel them pierce his soul. After a moment of terrible silence, Snape turned his head towards Moody.

"What are you doing to my students?" he asked, his voice deathly quiet.

"You don't have authority here. I do," Moody said. "But I have to say, you being here is a bonus." Moody let go of Severus and sat down on the bed, both boys forgotten at the moment. "I've never liked you, Severus. I've never trusted you."

"Well," Severus said trying to get better footing. "Albus tends to disagree..."

"Do you think I give a rat's ass what Albus thinks!" Moody stood up and got in Severus face. Severus just looked at him. "You're nothing but a filthy Death Eater, that got the Potters killed."

"What?" a small voice from behind Moody asked.

Draco looked up at Harry. Moody saw what he wanted to see.

"There it is," Moody praised.

He walked over towards Harry. "Now, we're getting somewhere."

Harry looked from Moody to Severus. Harry wasn't really sure what he was seeing in his professor. It almost look like regret.

"Is it true?" Harry asked.

Moody's lips curled up as he turned and looked at Severus. "Well, Snape, answer him."

"It's complicated," Severus said.

"How complicated can it be?!" Harry's voice was getting louder. "I know that you didn't like my dad, but I didn't think you would stoop so low as to get them killed!"

Moody leaned over closer towards Harry.

"Now," he whispered. "Cast Crucio."

"Harry, don't!" Draco cried.

* * *

**mandancie - **You went and hung Severus upside down! And you say I'm evil!

**The Lonely God With A Box - **Sorry...


	13. The Enemy Is Fear

"Harry, don't do it!" Draco pleaded. "It's not worth it! I should know!"

Harry was angry, but it wasn't really at his teacher. He couldn't understand why he truly couldn't be upset with him. There he was. Clearly an easy target. It's not like he hadn't cursed Snape before, but something was different now. The more he thought about it, and really thought about everything that has happened in his life the only one that really truly gave any kind of care about him was the man standing there looking like he was full of regret. Then there was Mad-Eye in one ear telling him to do an unforgivable curse on his teacher, and in the other, his new friend pleading for him to not do it.

Harry looked over at Draco.

"Don't do what?" Harry shot back bitterly. He knew exactly what Draco was talking about, but he wanted to buy some time, and sulking was the best way to do that.

"Don't cast that curse," Draco clarified, pulling himself to his feet, wincing at every movement. "You're better than that." The unspoken self-recrimination wasn't lost on the other members of his audience. Draco glanced at his father and tried to edge away from him. "I'm sorry, Father." Harry stood up and leaned against the wall.

"No, you're not," Lucius sneered. "Throwing your lot in with Harry Potter?"

"Fine, you're right. I'm not sorry," Draco snapped. "You've never given me any reason to fight for you."

"I've given you every reason," Lucius replied. Draco took a step back, but the sudden movement caused him to stumble. Harry reached out and caught him before he could fall. "I've given you everything you could ever want." Lucius stepped towards Draco, his wand out. Draco felt his eyes prickle with tears, but he wouldn't give in. He glanced nervously at Harry who still supported him.

When Harry saw Draco's father pull out his wand, he knew things were about to get really bad. Draco fell back, even though it was painful for Harry to move, much less stand at his own power, he grabbed hold of Draco and made sure he didn't fall.

Harry saw the look of desperation in Draco's eyes. Draco clearly didn't want to be here. Hell, Harry didn't want to be here. He wished he was still in the Astronomy Tower, talking with his new friend.

"Is this the kind of behavior Professor Snape has been showing you?" Lucius asked through gritted teeth, not even glancing back to acknowledge that Snape was witness to this.

"Professor Snape," Draco began slowly, "lets me make my own choices. He vowed to protect me with his life. You won't even protect me from yourself." Lucius rushed forward and grabbed Draco by the shoulders, slamming him into the wall. Draco whimpered pathetically.

"Please don't hurt me again," he automatically begged. "I'm already in so much pain. I've already been humiliated. I promise you don't need to punish me." Draco's eyes snapped towards Snape, and saw that the man under Moody's trained wand. Quickly, Draco shifted his gaze towards Harry, who was slowly raising his wand against his father.

"I'm ashamed of you," Lucius said, his voice dripping venom. "You could have been so much, and you decided to throw it all away. You could have brought favor on the House of Malfoy once again."

"I'm not here to fix your mistakes!" Draco shot back.

"Don't - talk - back," Lucius replied, accenting each word by slamming his son's shoulders against the wall. Draco gasped and shuddered.

"Neither one of us is getting out of here alive," Draco whispered. "I may as well say as I please."

"Let him go," Harry whispered out. Only Lucius and Draco heard him.

Lucius looked at Harry.

"What is it you think your doing?" Lucius voice was full of venom.

"This," Harry said, and with that, Lucius was blasted across the room, barely missing Severus when he hit the wall.

Draco fell on the floor again. Harry was right there next to him.

"What was that?!" Moody yelled. "What the hell was that?!"

Harry just looked up at Moody. Severus noted that he no longer had a wand trained on him and began to slink around the farthest reaches of the room.

"It would be in your best interest," Moody said without looking over at Severus, "if you did not move."

Moody's attention went back to the boys in front of him.

"Why is this so hard? Two curses. That's all you have to do. IT'S NOT HARD!"

Moody turned and pointed his wand at Severus. "CRUCIO!" Then he pointed it at Draco. "CRUCIO!"

This time the spell went a little different. The curse lasted until Moody stopped it. Severus moaned through clenched teeth, while Draco screamed in agony. Harry had tears in his eyes watching them go through this horrible torture.

"Please," Harry begged. "Please. Stop."

Moody looked at Harry with a level of disgust that Harry had never seen before. He was sure that Moody was going to curse him next. What happened next surprised everyone in that room.

Moody waved his arm and the curse was lifted off of Severus and Draco. Moody's magical eye was moving all around the room.

"Avada Kedava."

A green light came from Moody's wand and found its destination. Lucius was hit squarely in the chest. Lucius' look went from smug to surprised, as did everyone in that room. Eyes went wide and jaws dropped.

Moody leaned down next to Harry and said, "That's how you kill a wizard." Moody stood straight back up and walked out of the room.

Severus staring wide eyed at his former colleague now lying dead. He couldn't help but feel a little bit relieved. For a moment, he was convinced that green light was going to collide with him.

* * *

**The Lonely God With A Box -** Did I do any work on this chapter? It seems like it was all you this time around.

**mandancie - ***shrugs shoulders* Hey what can I say. I just write what I see. :) I hope you enjoyed it. And what do you mean asking if you did any work on this chapter? You are doing the most important thing: posting my chapter. :)


	14. The Next Great Adventure

Draco felt his throat constrict with the turmoil of emotions. He felt guilty, not because of what had just happened, but rather because his first thought was relief.

What kind of a son was he, when his first thought at seeing his father's dead body was _relief_? Not horror, not grief. He almost felt inclined to thank Moody, if such a thing were possible. Maybe he _really_ was a monster.

The situation was quickly becoming something Draco couldn't handle. The fear, the pain, the relief, the guilt. It was all building up to more than Draco could deal with, and he sank to the floor and shamelessly wept. Severus understood his actions for what they were - being overwhelmed - rather than grief for his father. While not one for empty promises, Severus still felt compelled to say something to the crying boy.

"Everything will be alright," he said softly, though his voice lacked conviction.

Harry couldn't keep the shocked look off his face. Lucius was dead. He was really dead. He didn't have to... He could hear his friend crying but didn't know what he could do for him. He never liked Lucius, but during his time he didn't like what he and Moody made him do when he came for his 'lessons'. He could faintly hear his teacher talking but it wasn't coming in clear.

Draco sobbed once, twice more, and then shook his head despondently.

"Let me die now, please," Draco murmured through hitching breaths. "Don't make me suffer anymore, Professor."

Harry slowly walked over to the lifeless body and looked down at it. It was almost over. He always told himself that what they wanted him to do, it would only be two times he would cast those curses. Now, one down, even though he didn't really do it. One to go.

"So why don't you just cast the curse on abysmal choice of friends, Potter?" Moody growled. "Apparently he sees the benefits of ending his pathetic life."

Harry looked over at Moody.

"He wants to die," Moody sneered out. "Kill him."

"No."

"Kill HIM!"

"No." Harry looked back at Lucius' body.

Moody walked over to Harry and gripped his upper arm. Harry hissed in pain.

"You know I grow tired of this," Moody growled in Harry's ear. Moody roughly grabbed Severus by the arm and shoved him next to Draco. They walked the few steps over to the two of them. "You will kill them both." Severus defiantly straightened his robes and stepped in front of Draco.

"Potter," Severus said. "Do what you must." Then, fixing his gaze on Moody, he asked, "Does Albus know about this?"

"It was Albus' idea," Moody growled out.

Harry closed his eyes and put his head down. The people who claimed to love him always wanted to hurt him. Severus huffed and glared at Moody.

"Clearly the man has gone senile," he drawled. "Though I highly doubt Albus would appreciate the deaths of one of his students and his faculty, compounded with his spy. I'm a very difficult person to replace, Alistair, and for your own sake, I recommend you proceed with extreme caution."

"Do not presume to know why Albus Dumbledore really keeps you around, Snivillus."

Severus eyes darkened at the name.

"Oh yes," Moody taunted him. "I know all about your school yard name. You are nothing special. It was no accident that you were called to that Death Eaters Meeting. Albus knew all the time. And now it's time that Harry learns that he can not escape it. He knew that Draco was getting close to Harry. And he knew that you gave him that potion."

"Wait."

Moody turned and looked at Harry.

"You are making me kill Draco and Professor Snape, because they helped me?"

"Yes."

Harry's face fell.

"This whole situation is ludicrous," Severus huffed. "There's no motive for any of this. If Albus wants Potter to be a viable weapon for the war, he needs to make sure his weapon doesn't break. The much more probable explanation is that you're simply lying. Now, if you are lying, my warning still stands, and it is extremely foolish to actually kill anyone here. If, somehow, you are not lying, then that would mean that there's very little reason to actually want to take part in any sort of confrontation between the Dark Lord and Dumbledore. You certainly are not instilling any reason to believe you're better than the Death Eaters. If you break Potter, the Dark Lord can, and will, use him against you."

Harry looked at his Professor with a whole new level of respect. Snape was defending him, Harry thought.

Very slowly he tried to move closer to his current Defense teacher, but he almost forgot Moody still had a tight hold on him.

"Where do you think you're going?" Moody growled, jerking Harry back towards himself. Harry yelped slightly at the unexpected force. Before Severus could stop him, Draco darted out from where he was protected. Without even hesitating, Draco approached the ever-vigilant Moody.

"Let me make a deal with you," Draco began. "Name your price to leave Harry alone. Just leave him out of this. Why do you need a child to win the war, anyway? You would think a fully trained, grown Auror would be much more effective than a student who hasn't even taken his NEWTs! So name your price, Moody."

"What are you thinking, you fool?" Severus hissed in the background, but no one paid attention.

Moody tossed Harry to the side, unknowingly towards Severus, and walked towards Draco, backhand slapping him across the face.

"Do you think I am in the business of making deals with children?" Moody growled out. "Especially Death Eaters' children? I see you didn't really learn anything from Daddy. You have nothing that I want!" With the same force, Moody pushed Draco towards Severus and Harry. Draco gasped, but didn't cry out.

"I see now that you think you don't have to do anything, Harry. Well, since you feel like that, I guess you're not ready for the next stage. We'll just have to start back from the beginning."

Harry's face turned deathly pale. He was shaking from head to toe and unconsciously moving closer behind Severus.

"Now, wouldn't you like to fill your Professor and young Malfoy on how your first lessons went?"

Tears were streaming down Harry's face. Severus and Draco turned and looked at Harry. He was on the verge of a panic attack. Severus reached out and grabbed Harry's arm, pulling him to a close, protective proximity.

"Potter," Severus said.

"I'm going to get the collar," Moody said and walked out of the room.

Harry's breathing started to become shallow. He couldn't do it. Not again. It hurt too much. He tried to clear his head by shaking it.

Severus gripped both of Harry's arms and tried to calm him down.

"Potter!" Severus said. "Harry. I need you to breathe. Breathe!"

"I...I can't…please," Harry gasped. He reached out and grabbed hold of Severus' robe. "Kill me. I know you...you really hate me. Please kill... me. Kill me now. I c-can't go thr-through that... again. Not again. Please P-professor, I know you've... hated me since my f-first year. If you... ever had feelings of anything about me, kill me. KILL ME!"

Harry couldn't take it anymore. He broke down crying and placed his head on Severus' chest. Severus and Draco looked at each other. Severus sighed, and Draco thought he saw an expression of sympathy cross Severus' face.

"What is it with adolescent boys begging me to kill them, or let them die lately?" he asked softly, snorting a bit at his morbid humor. Then Severus wrapped his arms around Harry, hesitating. Draco smiled a bit. Harry simply cried all the harder. "You had better fill us in on the details, Mr. Potter, before Moody gets back, or once again, I believe we will find ourselves at a distinct disadvantage. I don't know about the two of you, but I certainly would like to see sunrise tomorrow morning, or I will be sorely disappointed that I won't be able to see the look on Miss Bones' face when I hand her back her essay which earned a Troll grade."

Harry felt himself get pulled into the embrace. This couldn't be happening. Snape hated him.

Severus felt the grip on his robes get tighter. Draco walked over towards them.

"Harry," Draco pleaded. "Please, you have to calm down and tell us what is he doing."

"Potter," Severus said. "You need to calm yourself."

The more that they spoke to Harry, the tighter his grip was on Severus' robes. It was like he was trying to hide in them.

"Potter," Severus said pulling Harry away from him, but only arms length.

"Harry, please," Draco begged, getting frantic.

Footsteps approached from the hallway. Severus and Draco looked at each other. Severus brought Harry back into a quick embrace. They both new whatever they were about to face was not going to be good.

Moody walked in holding three metal collars in his right hand. His wand was in his left, pointing behind him, levitating a tub basin filled with water. Draco was shaking. Severus, holding Harry, looked at Draco and then back at Moody holding the metal collars, and for the first time, the distinct helplessness of their situation washed over Severus. He fought the panic clawing at the corners of his mind.

This is not going to be good, Severus thought.

* * *

**The Lonely God With A Box - **You're doing it again! You're not letting me know what's happening! Think of that poor reviewer who already threatened to have a heart contusion over this!

**mandancie - ***deep sighs* Well, I guess you're right.

**The Lonely God With A Box - **I know I'm right.

**mandancie - **Okay. Okay. Well, what Moody is going to do to them is... I don't think so! Like I'm actually going to tell you. I guess you'll have to wait and see in the next chapter.

**The Lonely God With A Box - ***glares*


	15. Collar-Blind

Harry's cries slowed down to where there was only whimpering coming from him, but he refused to be removed from the darkest confines of Severus' robes, nor was Severus even attempting to remove him.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy," Moody's voice was almost cheerful. "Come here."

Draco instinctively took a step back towards Severus and Harry. Whatever Moody was going to do, he did not want to be the first one. Draco shuddered.

"Do not make me call you over here again," Moody said, starting to loose his cheerful voice.

Draco and Severus looked at each other. Draco did not want to walk over there and Severus knew it. Draco moved closer to his Professor, when he felt a weird, disembodied sensation across his waist. His brow creased as he looked at his teacher with fear in them. He didn't know what was happening. Severus was about to reach out for Draco, when Draco began to involuntarily slide towards Moody. Draco yelped at the sudden movement. He was able to turn his body just in time to come face to face with the enemy, Alistair Moody. Draco was so scared that his breath got caught in his throat.

"I don't understand," Moody said grabbing hold of the front of Draco's shirt. "I've heard you say that you want to die. Well, I'm trying to make that possible. I tell you what. You're so eager to make deals. Let's make a deal."

"Draco," Severus called out, but Moody waved his wand and cast a silencing charm around them so that they wouldn't be disturbed again.

Severus watched as they talked. How he wish he could hear what was being said.

"You want to die, yes?" Moody asked.

"Yes, sir," Draco said. His eyes are on his shoes.

"Look at me," Moody said. "You want to make a deal like a man. Well, a man looks in to the eyes of his enemy to see if there are truth or lies in his words. Now, chin up."

Draco lifted his chin and looked at Moody.

"Now, you want to die?" Moody asked again.

"You're going to have me killed, so why not? Just please, make it quick."

Moody smirked.

"Did Harry tell you about these?" Moody asked changing the subject.

"No," Draco shook his head.

"Well," Moody said reaching out and putting one collar around Draco's neck, "you're about to get a crash course."

Draco gasped and gagged at how fast and hard the metal collar came around his neck. It wasn't so hard to breath, once he made his throat muscles relax, but it felt like something was almost trying to strangle him.

After Moody closed the collar around Draco's neck, he canceled the charm.

"Okay, gentlemen," Moody said, walking away from Draco, who was trying to pull the collar away from his skin, but he couldn't get his fingers under the smooth metal band.

"Wait, what do I get out of this deal?" Draco asked, still trying to pull at the collar. "Let Harry and Professor Snape go!"

"Who said we had a deal, Mr. Malfoy?" Moody growled. A look of horror crossed Draco's face. "You obviously can't tell when I'm lying, and have proved your childish immaturity on the matter of deal making."

"I thought you were supposed to be one of the 'good guys!'" Draco screamed, still clawing at his collar, growing more frantic by the minute. "You're supposed to be better than the Death Eaters!" Draco fell to his knees, as weakness and despair overcame him.

"This is a war," Moody said loftily. "There are no 'good guys' in a war." Draco wailed softly, unable to dislodge the collar. Moody stepped close to Draco again, but Draco only flinched slightly. Moody reached out and grabbed Draco by the roots of his hair and lifted him to his feet. Draco cried out, but didn't fight.

"Yes, sir?" Draco whimpered. Moody thrust the other two collars into Draco's hands.

"Put these on the other two," Moody instructed gruffly.

"Oh, God, no," Draco paled.

"No?" Moody echoed. He flicked his wand, and Draco screamed like he had never screamed before, even under the Cruciatus. Draco collapsed to the ground, in so much pain that he couldn't even move properly.

Severus, despite his years as a Death Eater, had never seen torture quite like this. Death Eaters had satisfied themselves with the Unforgivables, but judging by Draco's reaction, Severus concluded that this was quite unlike anything he had seen or felt. A Cruciatus was the worst pain any spell could inflict. But even that must have its limitations, Severus reasoned, because there was no physical contact between the caster and the victim. While a Cruciatus _felt_ like real pain, which basically made it real pain, it was imagined, thus the insanity connected with it, because of the blurring of reality. If there were some physical contact between the torturer and the victim, Severus wondered if a higher level of pain - God forbid - could be reached. Draco's stillness combined with the agony of his screams did little to ease Severus' mind.

Severus knew he would have rushed to Draco's side if Potter hadn't been still clinging to him. As if in pain himself, Potter was moaning softly as he shivered. Severus hadn't let Potter go since the boy had decided to latch on to him, and Severus concluded it was because of the stress of the situation. He must have simply forgotten to let go, but Severus still didn't make a move to dislodge the unwelcome child from his person.

It wasn't even a full minute, and Moody let up on Draco's torture. Draco screamed several more times - another thing to add evidence to Severus' theory of real, physical pain - though they began to become less frantic as the seconds passed.

Draco was shaking uncontrollably as he tried to rise to his feet. Tears flowed freely, because that had hurt worse than any Cruciatus he had ever been subjected to, and he had been subjected to many. Was it any wonder Harry had full on panicked and begged Snape to kill him?

"Put. The. Collars. On. Them," Moody emphasized. Draco realized he still had the other two in his hands. A look of horror settled on his face as he slowly turned to meet Snape's gaze, looking for guidance.

Severus nodded once. Draco glanced back at Moody, who looked impassive. Draco forced his feet to work as he stepped towards Snape and Harry. Draco reached up towards Snape with on of the collars, but he only moved a few inches.

Severus released Potter, but didn't push him away, not yet. Severus waited expectantly for Draco to put the collar on him. Then Draco hesitated.

"No, no," he whispered tearfully. "I can't hurt you, Professor, I can't." More tears spilled over, and Draco began to shake, out of fear, pain, and shame.

"It's fine, Draco," Severus said softly, taking Draco's wrists in his hands. "Do what you must." Wordlessly, he guided them to his throat and behind his neck, where he clasped the collar himself.

Draco continued to sob a soft mantra of "No's" but he didn't fight Snape. As much as it made him sick to think what he was doing to the only adult that cared about him, he couldn't face Moody's punishments again, not if he could avoid it. He was too much of a coward. He just admired Harry's fortitude all the more.

Harry. He had been ordered to _put the collar on Harry._ He groaned when he realized what that meant. Harry would be a much less willing victim than Snape, Draco knew, and he couldn't blame Harry in the slightest. Once again, Draco glanced at Snape for guidance.

"Do it," Snape instructed gently, though his expression was unreadable. "It's more dangerous to provoke an enemy whose strength you don't know than to do what he wants." Draco nodded, but didn't trust his voice to reply. Harry was still trying to block out reality, and Severus gently pushed him away from the confines of his robes. Draco looked at Harry, who was staring wide-eyed with shock at him.

"Harry, I'm sorry," Draco blurted out, as he took a step towards Harry.

"No!" Harry screamed, when he saw Draco's intent. "Get away from me! Don't touch me! Don't touch me with that thing!" Harry tried bolting away to a far corner of the room, but Severus was faster, guessing Harry's next move, and caught him by the wrist. Harry let out another scream at the unexpected force.

"Potter," Severus said, his voice still soothingly gentle, "I'm sorry as well. When _all_ _three_ of us are out of here, you'll understand why we had to."

"Let me go! LET ME GO!" Harry screamed as he wiggled and squirmed to get away from Severus. Instead, Severus pulled Potter close and held the boy's back to his chest. Severus began to feel slightly sick when he thought about what he was doing, cooperating in torturing a child.

"LET - ME - GO!" Harry protested again. He kicked and clawed at Severus, who, together with Potter, sank to to floor. Severus wrapped his legs around Harry's, immobilizing them, then held both of Harry's thin wrists in one of his hands. The other hand held Harry's head back, exposing his neck. Harry was unable to move at all, and entirely at their mercy - or lack thereof. Severus felt guilty about what he was doing.

"I hate you! I hate you both!" Harry screamed madly when he found himself unable to fight any longer. "I hate you, Draco!" Draco shook his head sadly, but didn't argue. It wasn't unlike what he told himself every day anyway. "Is this why you wouldn't kill me, Professor?" Harry continued ranting. "You want to see this, don't you? Stop holding me down, please! I hate you, Professor, I hate you!"

"Draco!" Severus snapped over Harry's tirade. "I can't hold him here forever." Draco woke from the reverie of self-loathing Harry's rant had brought on, and before he could hesitate again, he stepped forward to put the collar around Harry's neck.

"It's alright, Harry," Draco whispered softly in his ear. "I hate me too."

Harry looked up at Draco, his green eyes swimming in tears as he watched him come closer with that blasted collar.

"Put the collar on him, or both of you will be punished," was said from behind the small bit of chaos on the floor.

Draco put his head down then looked at his friend.

"I'm so sorry," Draco said as he closed the collar around Harry's neck.

Harry lost the fight in him. He just went limp in their Professor's arms. For a moment, Severus worried that the stress had killed Harry.

"I'm sorry, Draco," Harry deadpanned out. "I'm sorry, Professor. This is all my fault."

"Right you are, Harry," Moody said walking towards them. "And for that."

A wave of his arm and Harry was screaming, still in Severus' arms, screaming and withering in pain.

Severus couldn't believe what he was seeing, so he did the only thing he could, which was just to hold Harry.

"You know the rules, Harry," Moody said lifting his wand stopping the pain. "Now, I think it's time to fill in the Death Eaters."


	16. The Art of Deception

Ron and Hermione immediately rushed to Harry's trunk. Why they hadn't thought of it sooner, Hermione couldn't understand. They pawed through Harry's possessions - meager though they were - and found the Marauder's Map quickly enough. They unfolded it and began to search for any sign of a dot labeled "Harry Potter."

"There! There it is!" Ron sighed in obvious relief.

There was his name, certainly, but with an arrow that pointed off the map, towards where the Shrieking Shack would be, should it have been included on there. Four other names also appeared with Harry's.

Draco Malfoy.

Severus Snape.

Lucius Malfoy.

Alistair Moody.

"Wait," Ron said slowly. "Isn't Malfoy supposed to be in Azkaban? Malfoy Sr., I mean?"

"Yes," Hermione agreed, clearly puzzled, "but it would seem his isn't."

"Well, let's go get Harry and the ferret out of whatever situation they're in," Ron sighed.

"Ron!" Hermione admonished him. "They're with teachers."

"A teacher," Ron corrected her. "And need I remind you that Harry's been beside himself this year because of something? It's got to be this! I told you Snape was in on it."

"Ron, Draco wasn't lying when he said Snape had nothing to do with it," Hermione sighed. "He was panicked and he wasn't capable of lying in that state. Snape isn't behind it. Snape has only been saving Harry for the past five and a half years. I don't think he'd want his hard work to go to waste."

"Hmph," Ron replied.

"We should take this to Professor McGonagall," Hermione stated, grabbing the map. "She'll know what to do." She rushed out of the dormitory.

"Fine, fine!" Ron said, sighing and following her.

* * *

"What is this I'm looking at?" McGonagall asked.

Ron, Hermione and McGonagall were leaning over her desk looking at the map. Ron pointed to the far corner where the list of names, Harry's being one of them, were.

"We think Harry's in the Shrieking Shack," Ron said. Hermione nodded to agree. McGonagall looked at both of her students and then back down at the map.

"Mr. Weasley," she drawled. "Please do not waist my time with your little trinkets."

"But Professor," Hermione gasped out.

"This is clearly one of the twins' products," McGonagall dismissed, started folding the map back up. "Now would you two be so kind as to not bother me with jokes and trinkets that mean absolutely nothing to me. Good day."

* * *

"Alright," Moody said. He walked up to them on the floor. "Rule number one: You do not say no to me."

Moody looked at Draco. Fear was in the boy's eyes. He really didn't want to feel that pain again.

"Rule number two: You will cast Unforgivables on each other."

Draco and Severus looked at each other. Harry had his eyes closed, still leaning against Severus' chest. Severus still had he arms protectively wrapped around Harry's chest. Severus held Harry closer, if that were possible, fury burning in his eyes as he glared at Moody.

"Rule number three," Moody said, standing next to Severus and Harry. With a swift swing of his metal leg, he kicked both Severus and Harry. Harry cried out, but Severus did not make a sound, just gritted his teeth. He wrapped one arm around Harry's head, guarding against an attack directly to the boy's skull.

"Stop coddling them," Moody said to Severus. "Let him go."

"And what if I don't?" Severus snapped back. "I'm not your pawn!"

"Professor," Draco hissed, placing his hand on Severus' shoulder. "Stop being stupid."

"Detention, Draco!" Severus hissed back at him. Draco smiled gratefully, understanding the veiled words of comfort; Snape was still planning to get out of there alive.

Moody tilted his head to the side. With a wave of his wand, both Harry and Draco were screaming in pain. Draco fell forward.

Severus, still holding on to Harry, reached out with is other hand caught him, and pulled Draco towards him. He now had both children, writhing in pain, in his arms trying to give them some kind of comfort.

"Let them go!" Severus begged, one boy in each arm. "It wasn't their defiance! Or are you simply afraid of bullying an equal?" Severus sneering by the end, trying to goad Moody into forgetting Draco and Harry.

Moody let a evil smile come across his lips and there was anther wave of his wand.

If Severus thought that the boys' screams were loud, he was greatly mistaken. The screams and wailing that came from Draco and Harry totally surpassed the cries that they were doing before. Severus just held both boys tightly.

"Stop it!" Severus screamed. There was only so much pain a human could take, and he was well aware that both Harry and Draco had been cowed into submission. There wasn't much more either boy could take. He, on the other hand, had a higher, untaxed pain threshold. "Stop it! Fine, I'm sorry! What do you want from me? Leave the boys alone!"

As if to emphasize his point, Severus broke his contact with Harry and Draco. He rose and stepped out from behind them.

"There," he said calmly, raising his hands, palms outwards. "I am not comforting them." He winced as Draco screamed.

"Finally, Snape," Moody sneered. "You finally realized that you do not control things here." Moody waved his wand and the screaming stopped. "I am."

Once the boys screams turned to whimpering, Severus wanted to check on them, but Moody had other plans.

"If you so much as touch them," Moody ominously said. "I'll grant both their wishes."

Severus' eyes narrowed.

"You wouldn't kill Potter," he sneered, but he didn't make a move towards them. Draco grabbed his temples and moaned, then blindly reached a sympathetic, if shaking, hand to Harry.

"Yet you don't want to test this theory," Moody smirked. Severus glowered at him.

"What do you want, Moody?" Severus challenged. "I'm ready to give you anything. Anything!" Then he added, under his breath, "Even if you are psychotic." He risked another glance towards Draco and Harry, who watched them with gaping expressions.

Moody walked up to Severus till they were almost nose to nose.

"Do you really think this is about you?" Moody asked. "You are nothing but a speck in the design. A way to get the chosen one to his next step in development. This is not about you."

Severus trying to school his features on his face, couldn't let pass the mild shock after listening to Moody talk. He then turned and looked at Harry, who had his head down.

"Not about me?" Severus asked calmly, though his quiet tone only stood to mask the fury that boiled inside him. "It would seem that threatening my life, and those of my students, is intensely about me. And so that you have been fairly warned, if Dumbledore doesn't stop you from killing any or all of us, then let me remind you that the Dark Lord will not rest if you harm any of us. He has Draco and Harry marked as his own, and he would not take kindly to my death either. If you do irreparable damage, you will have a manic Dark Lord hunting you and you specifically. Not even you can escape him.

"Now for pity's sake," Severus continued, now sounding like he was speaking to a particularly trying student, "take whatever sick pleasure you get from torture out on me." He stepped close to Moody and lowered his voice. "Or are you too afraid of me to take me on? Even when I'm unarmed? I'm a dangerous man, and you know it. Coward."

Moody looked at Severus for a while. Both men looked at each other seeing what the other was going to do. Then Moody turned to Harry.

"Harry," Moody called out. "Why don't you demonstrate the basin of water?"

If Harry wasn't deathly pale before, he was now. He looked at Draco and Severus with pure unadulterated fear in his eyes. Tears began to pool up in his eyes as he began to shake.

"Please, no," Harry begged. "Not the water. I'll do anything." His voice was almost a whisper.

"ANYTHING!" roared Moody. He rushed over to Harry gripped his arms and stood him up. "Anything." Moody spat in Harry's face. "I've told you to curse these two Death Eaters and you begged and pleaded not to. Now that I have your old teaching tool, now you want to do it."

Harry was shaking in Moody's hands. He didn't want to curse his friend or his professor, but he didn't want to feel the sting of that basin either. For a moment, indecision flickered on Harry's face.

"Harry," a smooth voice from behind Moody came through. "Just cast it. It will be alright."

Moody let go of Harry, turned towards Severus and with a wave of his wand Severus' collar activated.

Severus sank to his knees and a strangled scream escaped his lips. His hands groped at his throat, trying in vain to remove the collar. The pain was unbearable, worse than any torture at the hands of the Dark Lord. What was Albus thinking, letting Potter be exposed to this? Severus screwed his eyes shut against the involuntary tears that were beginning to rise up. Another half-scream.

"Holding up better than I would have expected," Moody commented lazily as Harry and Draco watched in horror. Both knew what Severus was suffering, but felt helpless to offer any comfort. If they had tried, Draco thought, they wouldn't have to wait for Moody to kill them. Severus would have seen to that for such an unseemly display of emotions.

Moody stepped close to Severus and grabbed him by the roots of his long, black hair. Severus didn't react, too concentrated on his personal agony to notice a human touch. Moody dragged Severus after him, as he stepped towards the water basin. Severus fell and made a half-hearted attempt to follow, though through his pain, his ability was severely limited.

"Well, now it's time for the rules." Moody dragged Severus after him, as he stepped to the water basin. "Rule number four. You are not in control." Moody put emphases on each word. Without warning, Moody shoved Severus' head into the water basin. Severus could feel the water around him, and was immediately aware of the dire consequences. If he screamed, or panted, or in any way expressed his discomfort, he would release what little air was left in his lungs. He would unable to breathe in more air. He was being forced to control himself or drown. Neither thought was pleasant, as he had been gasping for air only a few moments before. Severus shuddered in the attempt to hold his breath past all the pain.

He began to breathe anyway. He couldn't hold his breath any longer. Moody pulled him out of the water and released the spell.

"Rule number five," This he looked directly at Severus. "You have no say on what I do and to whom I do it to. You. Are. Not. Important. You are nothing." Severus sat down hard and coughed the little water he had breathed out of his lungs. Nervously, he glanced at Harry and Draco.


	17. Good Friends Are Like Stars

Draco watched, opened mouthed, as Moody thrust Snape's head under water and then released him. Harry, on the other hand, looked guilty as he watched. Neither raised a hand to interfere. They both knew that there was nothing they could do to help their professor and any interference on their part would only make his plight worse.

Severus tried to stand, but since he never suffered that pain before, he was unaware that his own weight was too much for his legs. As he stood, he immediately collapsed back to the floor. Severus groaned as he crumpled to the floor. This scared the teens more than anything. The teacher they both looked to for strength collapsing on the floor was just too much.

Draco and Harry looked at each other, and in a joint understanding, they went to Severus' side. They didn't care what happened to them. They just wanted their Potions Master back next to them.

Severus felt a wave of gratitude towards both boys, even Potter, at their willingness to offer him comfort. Admittedly, Severus didn't expect Potter to do anything of the sort. Draco didn't surprise him; they had been close for years. But especially considering that Potter had been close to cursing him at the revelation that he had killed the boys parents, and that he had been the one to hold Potter down for the collar, he would never have expected the boy to raise a hand in his defense. Severus was scared, terrified beyond what he ever wished to feel again, and he knew his mask was crumbling.

"Don't you dare touch me!" he growled at his students, putting on his most intimidating glare possible. It had the desired effect. Harry and Draco both paused and questioned their previous careless bravado.

Severus keen ears caught the sound of someone quickly approaching. Mustering all the strength he had, Severus pulled himself to his feet. He had barely steadied himself when the door slammed open.

Severus didn't get to register who was at the door when a spell hit him square in the chest. Being already weakened by the effects of the collar and his head being submersed in water, he didn't even have the strength to block the spell. He fell unconscious at the feet of the two teenage boys. Both stood in utter shock at who cast the curse in the first place.

Draco's eyes never left the unconscious form of their potions professor, but Harry's heart plummeted when he looked into the face of his Head of House. She had her wand trained on both Draco and himself. The only thing that flashed in his mind at that moment was that the ones who were supposed to love, him hurt him, and the ones who didn't like him, saved his life.

Minerva walked in the room. She looked down at Severus' unconscious form, then at the two teenage boys gaping at her.

"Well," Moody said. "It's about time you showed up. I was wondering what was taking you so long." Minerva never took her eyes off the boys.

"Yes, well, I had things that needed to be done and people that I had to throw off the track. Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger were very close, extremely close, to knowing where Harry was."

Draco looked at Harry. He saw the anguish in his friend. He could only watch the pain that Harry was emitting. There was no way he could comfort his friend. And Draco, feeling like he biggest coward in the room, was afraid that if to offer any sign of comfort or sympathy Moody would activate his collar again. And that was a pain he never wanted to experience again.

Harry stood there. His eyes never left Professor Snape's body. He couldn't believe it. His heart just ached from the amount of people who said they loved him and cared for him, yet they either stood by and let bad things happen, or they did the things themselves. The potions professor slowly became more and more blurry as the tears formed in Harry's eyes. He wouldn't look up at his Head of House, nor at Draco. Maybe soon, Draco would start hurting him as well. Him and his professor. Why he should care so much about Draco and his professor was beyond him, but if he only had two people that really would be honest with him, then he would hold them close.

Minerva turned and faced Alistair.

"Now," Minerva said. "Can you explain to me why Severus and Draco are here?" Her tone demanded respect. There was no flinch in her face nor deception in her eyes. Moody understood that she demanded respect - that she demanded the truth.

"They are Death Eaters. Potter needed to be trained," Moody growled. "And what better way than to practice on a couple of Death Eaters?" Minerva's eyes narrowed slightly.

"What exactly have you been doing with Harry?"

"Training him."

"How?"

"Professor," a small voice called out.

Minerva turned and saw that Harry's head was still bowed, and Draco was looking at Harry. She saw the contrite manner in which Harry stood and the anger within her boiled to an ungodly level. Slowly she turned back to Moody.

"Training?" she asked again.

"Potter needs to be ready for the upcoming war," Moody proclaimed.

Minerva put her head down, then she quickly raised it with her wand and just as fast Moody went flying to the other end of the room. There he laid unconscious next to Lucius' still form. She quickly turned and faced the boys behind her.

"Oh, God, thank you," Harry breathed, when he saw Moody's motionless body.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy," her voice much softer than before.

"Please, Professor," Draco pleaded in a soft voice. His eyes spoke what he voice could not. This was not at all what Minerva was accustomed to hearing from Draco Malfoy. It hurt her heart at how scared he sounded. "Please get us to the infirmary." He gestured to himself, Harry, and Severus. Then, pointing at Moody, "He needs to be restrained. He tried to kill us. All of us."

"And your father?" Minerva asked, pointing her wand at the man's prostrate form.

"Dead," Draco choked out. "Please don't hurt us anymore."

"No," Minerva said softly shaking her head. "I will not hurt you. I am so happy that I found you. Now listen to me, and hear me out. What I do next, please understand that it is for your safety. I promise you no one will hurt you again."

"And Professor Snape?" Harry asked.

"Trust me, Harry," Minerva said as she placed her finger under Harry's chin and brought gaze gaze to meet her own.

Minerva stepped back. She waved her wand in two different patterns. The first one put the boys in a deep sleep (something, which by the look of them, they were sorely short of), and the other one slowly and carefully lowered them towards the floor. Once they were settled, she carefully levitated the boys to the bed and laid them down upon it. Quickly, the rolled Severus onto his back, in what she imagined to be a more comfortable position. She then turned back to Moody and while he was unconscious, she placed a body bind on him. It was the best thing she could think to do that would not land her in Azkaban. She was angry at Moody, but something told her that a certain lemon drop eating wizard was the one really pulling the strings and once she got a chance she would be talking to the Headmaster with too many names.

* * *

**The Lonely God With A Box -** So you finally let me rescue them!

**mandancie -** Hey, it was my idea to use Minerva. You can't take all the credit. So what if I was the one who put them through hell?

**The Lonely God With A Box -** I hope you're going to at least give them a slight reprieve and allow them to rest and recover a bit. They need to have their lives settle down enough to become friends!

**mandancie -** *evil smirk* Huh. We'll see. You never know what will happen inside of Hogwarts. *evil cackle*


	18. Broken Wings

Harry woke up to the sounds of hushed voices. He wondered where he was. His limbs felt heavy, and he tried to remember what happened. He remembered Professor McGonagall coming. He remembered Professor Snape falling unconscious at her hand. And he remembered Draco staying with him. Harry tried to open his eyes, but couldn't.

_"Professor Snape, someone, anyone, help me!"_ Harry panicked when he realized he was totally incapacitated.

Poppy walked into the wing and saw Minerva standing next to Severus' bed, talking.

"Minerva," Poppy said. "I think it's about time you take the spell off of the boys."

"Oh, yes, of course," Minerva replied hastily, and she waved her wand, canceling the previous binding spell. Harry sat up immediately, but realized what a bad idea that was only moments after he swung his legs off the bed. He felt dizzy and his stomach tried to rebel. Harry moaned and held his temples, because his head felt like it was going to explode at any minute.

Minerva stepped over to Harry and placed a hand on his shoulder. Harry flinched away, and Minerva scowled fiercely as she took her hand away. She wanted Moody drawn and quartered for what he done to her student - to both her students.

When Harry's vertigo had passed, he looked up and saw his Head of House brooding. Snape looked over at him curiously from the next bed over as he propped himself up on one elbow. Harry noticed that Snape still wore the collar, and hesitatingly, found that he did as well. Unconsciously, Harry glanced around to find Draco, and saw the blond boy on the other side of him, though Draco still seemed to be unconscious. Perhaps he was faking, Harry wondered.

"How long have we been here?" Harry asked quietly, and he seemed to pose his question to Severus.

"An hour at the most," Severus replied calmly. "When will the Headmaster be arriving?" he asked Minerva.

"I haven't told him that you're back, yet," Minerva confessed. Severus' brow creased.

"And why not?'' Severus asked. "There are many things he needs to know."

"Yes, there are," she agreed. "But I need to understand a few things before we call him."

"Listen, Minerva," Severus sounded defeated. "Draco cannot stay here."

Harry looked at Severus, but the professor was not paying Harry any attention. Harry didn't know why Professor Snape didn't worry about him like he worried about Draco, and that hurt him so much, more than he would have expected it to.

"Severus," Minerva said walking over towards his bed. "He will be fine here."

"Don't you understand?" Severus hissed at her. "The Dark Lord will want the boy killed! Hogwarts might be safe enough for Potter - the Death Eaters know better than to harm the boy when he belongs to the Dark Lord - but they'll have no such qualms about Draco! Half of my house, whether out of loyalty or out of fear, will try to kill him. Hogwarts isn't safe for Draco, not without - " he paused a moment, and his voice quieted, " - constant vigilance."

Harry looked over at where Draco, who was still unconscious, was lying. He never knew how dangerous it was for Draco. Harry wished there was something that he could do that would help his new friend.

"Well," Minerva said. "What do you propose?"

"For now, he will stay with me in my chambers."

"And what about classes? You won't be able to watch him while he's in classes." Severus looked over at Draco.

"He won't be going to classes."

"Severus," Minerva's heart was heavy. "You can't keep him prisoner."

Severus looked at Minerva. "I will keep him alive."

Harry lay there and wished that someone would care enough for him the way Professor Snape cared for Draco.

"Will Draco be safe?" Harry asked quietly. Severus eyed the boy coldly, though not cruelly.

"As safe as can be hoped for, I expect," Severus replied, "though _you_ have to keep his whereabouts to yourself. Now, Minerva, if you would kindly inform the Headmaster of our presence here, that would be highly appreciated." With a rustle of her robes and an annoyed snort, she turned and left the infirmary. Severus leaned back against the headboard and laced his fingers behind his head. He watched Harry for a long moment.

"I read your letters to Draco," he said casually.

"What?" Harry gasped.

"Draco was frantic to find you when you disappeared and sent for me," Severus continued calmly. "He showed me the letters to see if we could gather any clues from them. I never expected you to take my calling you an idiot so seriously."

Harry didn't know if he should be hurt that Draco showed the Professor the letters. He guessed a small part of him was relieved that Draco really did try and get help for him. He had been worried that he would just leave him. Harry looked over at Draco and sighed.

"I am an idiot, sir," Harry whispered not looking at his Professor. "Draco wants to change my name, but I don't think I should."

"Well, judging by the fact that you have never respected me, I highly doubt that it is simply my name-calling which has affected you that much," Severus continued in a bored tone. "I suggest you analyze the qualifications of anyone who has used that particular term in reference to you. And whether true or not, don't you think it's cruel to make Draco call you something he doesn't want to call you?"

"But you were right, sir," Harry said looking over at Severus. "Everything you said about me."

"Potter, I..."

"It's alright," Harry slid back down in the bed. "I'm going to..."

"Potter," Severus' voice was stern. "You will sit up and face me. There is a matter that needs understanding. You will talk." Severus left no room for discussion. Harry swallowed and nodded mutely as he sat back up.

"Yes, sir?" he asked meekly.

"If you actually _believed_ what I said, then you are a trifle more of an idiot than I actually anticipated," Severus drawled, hoping Harry would understand the heavily veiled compliment. Apparently he did, because his eyebrows rose into his hairline. "Now, since I'm not an idiot enough to believe that you believed _me,_ as Draco asked, and as you never answered, who did, or does, call you idiot?"

"No one's ever said it to my face," Harry's voice was so low he didn't know if his teacher even heard him.

"Explain." Harry looked up at the Professor.

"I call myself that. Because...I mean just... I..."

"Eloquent as always, Potter."

Harry put his head down, balling his fists on top of his sheet on his lap. How could he explain to Professor Snape that it was comments like that right there? The jibes and insults that he would give him were the only thing that showed that he really did care. And the ones that spoke about loving him or wanting to help him were really out to hurt him. Harry had never felt closer to his Potions Professor than he did then, but he knew that that feeling wouldn't last. Soon classes would resume, they would go back to their old hatred, and he'd be alone again. No more 'The Monster in the Dark,' because Severus would be taking Draco out of classes.

"Potter," Severus said, growing impatient, bringing Harry out of his musing. "You will explain why you call yourself an idiot."

Harry looked over at Draco, and for the first time, he felt jealousy for the blonde headed boy. To have someone fuss over you, unconditionally, that had to be completely wonderful.

"I hardly fuss over Draco," Severus replied calmly. Harry only then realized he had said the last comment aloud. It had been so quiet, he was surprised that Snape caught it.

"Yeah, you do," Harry contradicted sullenly.

"It simply goes to show that you have no idea what fussing is," Severus commented, sounding a bit distracted. "Draco's had it harder growing up that you might have imagined previously - as you may have gathered from certain events in the Shack. I am simply a stable adult role model for him. Nothing more."

"But you love him and you care about him!" Harry objected, feeling tears rising in his eyes. Severus blinked momentarily at the accusation.

"I'm fond of him," Severus finally managed. "Love seems a strong word."

"That's what I mean," Harry said. A lone tear escaped down his face. "To have someone care, that would be a wonderful feeling. I just wish I knew what that felt like."

"If you're asking for my guidance," Severus sighed dramatically, "Draco has practically begged me to do that for you. Alright. Fine. Draco has already endangered himself because of contact with you, and I see no reason to compound the problem with letting you grow up to be an uncivilized barbarian. The Headmaster seems to have been doing an exceptionally poor job of seeing to your extra-curricular education."

"Sir, I..," Harry stopped when the doors to the Infirmary opened. Minerva walked into the room and saw that both Harry and Severus were awake.

"Severus," Minerva said. "I told Albus that you were back. He wants to see you and Harry." Harry put his head down. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to the Headmaster. He sighed and tossed the cover from his lap. He received a shock when his cover came back over his lap.

"I do believe, Mr. Potter, that you were going to lay down and rest," Severus said quietly.

"But sir," Harry started to protest, when Severus leaned down and looked Harry in his eyes.

"Did you, or did you not, ask me just a few minutes ago," Severus said in a whisper so that only Harry could hear, "to be an advocate for you? Well, let me do that. You will stay here. I will talk to the Headmaster. And I will explain what you - what we all - have been through."

Harry looked into those onyx eyes that were baring down deep in his soul, and blinked at him. Severus put his hand on Harry's shoulder and began to lower the boy so that he was laying down in the bed. Severus pulled the cover up to Harry's shoulders.

"Get some rest, Mr. Potter," Severus said, straightening back up.

"Sir," Harry said looking up at his professor, his eyes shinning with un-shed tears. "I'm sorry."

"What is it now, Potter?" Severus sighed, slowly sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I never wanted you to feel that." A lone tear escaped Harry's eyes. Severus looked at the small boy that not a few hours ago was clutching and clinging to him as if his life depended on it. Because his life had depended on it. Understanding showed on Severus' face as he realized what Harry meant. Severus put his hand on Harry's shoulder and gave a gentle, but firm, squeeze.

"Get some rest, Harry." Severus said, getting off the bed. He did not remove his hand from the boy until he was standing.

"But sir," Harry's voice was no louder than a whisper, since he was trying not to cry.

"Harry," Severus voice was a little sterner, but not harsh. "You're tired. That's why you are behaving like this. Everything will be fine. I will see to it. Now, what did I ask you to do?"

"R-rest," Harry said.

"I'll be back later," Severus said.

Harry watched as Professor Snape and McGonagall walked out of the Infirmary. He didn't notice a pair of grey eyes watching the whole thing with a small smile on his face.

* * *

**The Lonely God With A Box - **Well, apologies on taking so long to update. I think most of the blame falls to me this time, what with blowing up my potions lab twice a week and such.

**mandancie -** mmmrrrhhhghh *wrapped from head to toe from explosion*. mmmmmmgghhrgghr


	19. The Right Friends

"Headmaster," Severus greeted the old man, as he lowered himself into a fluffy purple armchair. It spoke to the level of his pain and exhaustion that Severus Snape would consent to sit in that egregiously colorful abomination. He glanced to the other side of the room and saw where Moody was presumably stuck to a chair with a silencing spell on him. Severus breathed an internal sigh of relief that he hadn't brought Harry along.

"I have heard some disturbing accusations today, Severus," Albus said non-chalantly.

"I hope you have," Severus shot back in an acerbic tone. "What is the meaning of letting Moody torture your Golden Boy?"

"Severus, I - " Albus began.

"Don't 'Severus' me," he seethed. "You haven't seen Potter lately, have you?"

"No, I haven't," Albus admitted.

"Forcing the brat to cast Unforgivables is hardly good for his mental stability or his soul," Severus continued. "You might as well have asked him to become a Death Eater. And what is the meaning of allowing Draco's or my deaths? I'm your spy, and Draco is your student."

"I knew nothing of this, I assure you," Albus replied sadly. "I arranged for Alistair to train Harry in some advanced Defense spells. It never occurred to me that he would overstep his bounds that much."

"It never occurred to you to check?" Severus challenged, his eyes narrowed.

"Would you have checked, Severus, if someone you trusted were mentoring Draco?"

"And how did Lucius get out of Azkaban?" Severus dodged.

"He should still be in Azkaban," Albus' brow creased in confusion.

"No," Severus drawled, shaking his head. "Lucius Malfoy is currently dead. Moody killed him." Severus couldn't help the shudder that coursed through his body as he remembered seeing Moody's wand pointing between the both of them and that green light being so close to him, instead hitting its mark in Lucius' chest.

"That can't be true," Albus said.

"I assure you, it is," Severus sighed. "Lucius is dead."

"I knew nothing of this," Albus declared. "Alistair, what did you do?" Albus' expression spoke of the betrayal and the bewilderment he felt. He never had been one to easily disguise his emotions unless he had some ulterior motive in mind. Moody motioned to his throat to remind Albus of the silencing charm he was currently under. With a wave of his wand, Albus cancelled it.

"Lucius Malfoy was - useful to me," Moody explained, once he had regained use of his voice. "Sirius Black isn't the only one who can arrange for an escape from Azkaban. I promised Lucius his freedom if he cooperated with my plan to train Potter. Naturally, the corrupt bastard jumped at the bargain, even if it meant the downfall of his master."

Severus did not face the man. He kept his eyes on Albus. "You tortured that boy."

"He brought it on himself," Moody spat. "There is only so much you can do with an unwilling student. I'm sure you understand, Snape?" Severus slowly turned and looked at Moody pointedly.

"You sicken me," he sneered.

"Don't think that you are guiltless in this endeavor," Moody growled.

"Really," Severus drawled, raising an eyebrow. "Explain to me - how am I at fault? You TORTURED him. A water basin, really." Severus took off the metal collar that he still had around his neck and threw it on Albus' desk.

Albus looked at the medieval device that was thrown on his desk and Severus could have sworn that a greenish tinge passed over the Headmaster's face.

"Well,"Moody said. "Look who's acting holier than thou. You know, if you had taught him Occlumency when you were suppose to, then I wouldn't have to do what you failed to do." Minerva let a small gasp at the insinuation. Severus just looked at Alistair. Severus' magic was rolling off of him in waves.

Minerva slowly reached out to her colleague. "Severus," she spoke soothingly. "Severus, calm down."

"Calm down?" he echoed, his voice higher than he intended, making him sound almost hysterical. "Calm down?" He turned to Moody. "I have enough to be responsible for," he said coldly. "I don't need your offenses as well. One wrong doesn't justify another." Severus stepped closer to Moody, and Minerva waited with baited breath, afraid of what he might do when he was this angry. Instead, all Severus did was to lean close and speak in a cold, calm, dangerous voice.

"You're right," Severus began. "I've done many, many horrible and terrible things, and I don't even regret half of them. But I've never tortured a child."

"Oh you with your bleeding heart," Mood sneered. "It's a wonder Harry isn't dead from your watch. You coddled that boy. You indulged him."

Severus had to step back a little. Was he just accused of indulging Harry Potter?

"I plead innocent of all charges," he replied icily. Severus looked down his nose at Moody who was still stuck to his chair. "Albus, I demand that this man be handed over to the Death Eaters. They will know how to give him proper treatment for his crimes. It may save some innocent Muggle somewhere."

"You can't be serious," Albus sighed. "I can't, and will not, hand him over to Death Eaters. Severus, my boy, be reasonable." Severus turned and faced Dumbledore.

"I have just endured and witnessed what Moody has put Potter through. Having that blasted collar on and then having your head dunked in water - is that your idea of being reasonable?" Albus paled a little. Minerva put her hand to her mouth.

"You did not hear the screams that came from those boys. Their pain was unimaginable. It was awful. The Cruciatius is child's play compared to that collar. And then to have your head immersed in water while that blasted collar was activated..." Severus trailed off for a moment. He remembered the anguish and fear of dying that he felt when his head was submerged. Severus collected himself again and looked at the Headmaster. "You wanted a weapon for your war," Severus' voice did not have the same intensity that he had moments ago. "Well, that bastard just broke your weapon. The boy is broken. He's ready to die. I heard him beg for death. He begged me to kill him. Have you ever had a child beg you to kill them?" Severus slumped back down in the chair again. He was more tired than he was when he made the trek from the infirmary. He was more than tired. He was exhausted.

"Albus," Minerva began cautiously, "what _do_ you plan to do with Alistair?" She heard Severus mutter something about "Death Eaters would be too kind." Minerva placed her hand on Severus' shoulder, but he didn't react.

"Alistair," Albus addressed him, ignoring both Minerva and Severus, "why did you do this? I never asked for you to harm Harry. I just wanted him to be ready to face Voldemort."

"I WAS TRAINING HIM!" Moody exclaimed. "All he had to do was listen."

"How odd," Severus muttered. "Potter not listening. Who would've guessed?"

"Listen here, you Death Eater scum," Moody growled. "I've gotten Potter to do a whole lot more than you could." Severus turned and looked at Moody.

"You forced that boy to do Unforgivables. You. Broke. That. Child." Severus enunciated every word as he sat forward. "You came for that boy at night, made him do Unforgivables, and you thought he was succeeding? HARRY WAS PETRIFIED!"

"Severus, calm down," Albus said. Severus attention turned towards the Headmaster.

"You lied to me," Severus' voice dripped with venom. "The entire time, you knew where Potter was. I came here and specifically told you that Potter was missing. You knew. And stop telling me to calm down, old man."

"You wanted him for a detention - "

"An excuse," Severus dismissed with a wave of his hand. "You should know me better by now. I don't come asking you about students escaping my detentions. The least you could have done was told me."

"Severus," Albus intoned sadly, "you do dangerous work, and I know you're loyal." Moody scoffed. "But you are very close to Voldemort, and you keep associations with his other followers as well. There has to be something in this war that you don't know. I can't put all my eggs in one basket, to coin a phrase."

"Thank whatever power there may in heaven that Minerva took my concerns seriously, then," Severus growled. "Albus, I've had my say. I think I have more right to determine that bastard's fate than anyone else in this room. As a representative for both Draco and Harry, I submit my request again - to let me deliver him to the Death Eaters. You know what happened and you know where I stand. I believe my services are better put to use elsewhere." Severus rose wearily and turned to Minerva. "You can find me in the infirmary if you need me. I'm unavailable to anyone else." Then to the whole room, "Good day."

* * *

Harry lay in the bed and watched the Potion Master leave the Infirmary.

"I told you that you could trust him," a voice said behind Harry. He turned around and saw that Draco was awake.

"Yeah," Harry said quietly. "Draco, I'm sorry." Draco sat up in bed and arched his back, trying to ease some of the lingering pain. He smiled weakly at Harry.

"Sorry for what?" he asked. "What nonsense are you talking about now?" Trying to be inconspicuous, and failing, Draco frowned and nervously touched his throat and removed the collar, now that it was no longer in the presence of its owner. Harry quickly did the same.

"You were never suppose to feel that," Harry said holding the collar in his hand. Draco sighed and looked over at his new friend.

"It's not your fault, Harry," Draco said.

"You weren't suppose to be there," Harry mused. "Why were you there anyway?"

"Professor Snape."

"What?" Harry asked, looking puzzled.

"It's a long story," Draco sighed. "There - there was a meeting today. The Dark Lord - he - he's been trying to make me do things - kill people - and I was going to be all brave and tell him off tonight, and he was supposed to kill me, but Professor Snape forced me to portkey over to the Shack. I was supposed to wait there till he came to collect me."

"Oh," Harry nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault I was born who I was," Draco said, his voice sounding strained, and he looked away.

"What's that suppose to mean?" Harry sat up looking at Draco. Draco shrugged.

"I'm the kid of two Death Eaters," Draco explained, his voice still strained, still looking away. "What other choice would I have expected? An 'Oh, you don't have to be like us if you don't want to. You don't have to take a mark'? I didn't chose my parents and they didn't chose me." Draco sucked in his breath suspiciously.

"You're saying this to the freaking 'Boy-Who-Lived'?" Harry raised one eyebrow up. "Draco, look at me." Slowly, a pair of grey eyes met a pair of green ones. For the first time, Harry saw real pain and sorrow behind his friend's eyes. "What did your father do to you?"

"You're right, I'm sorry," Draco said, shaking his head ruefully. "I shouldn't complain. You have it rough too."

"You're avoiding the question." A shadow passed over Draco's face and he shrugged sadly.

"I'm not good enough for him," he whispered. "He'd hit me, cast curses on me, make me work for hours without any magic." Draco bit his lip. "I think I should feel badly that he's dead, but I can't."

"If I could be so lucky," Harry sighed, leaning against the headboard of the bed. Draco seemed to sit up a little straighter at that.

"Explain," he demanded quickly.

Harry looked over at Draco. He, again, realized that he thought the last statement out loud. He was going to have to work on that, Harry thought. First, Professor Snape and now Draco. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about his relatives.

"Let's just say, be happy that you have Professor Snape."

"I am," Draco said gently, sincerely. "And you have him too, now. You're avoiding the question." Draco smiled weakly, throwing Harry's own words back at him. Two could play at this game, especially a Slytherin.

Harry couldn't help the warm feeling of knowing that he had someone in his corner. That he had the scariest, most feared Professor in all of Hogwarts on his side.

"Yeah," Harry gave a small smirk. "But I asked you first."

"I told you," Draco accused. "He hit me and he cursed me. You're scaring me, Harry. If that's you're definition of lucky - what happened to you?"

"Did he starve you?" Harry's voice was low. "Did he lock you away for weeks on end?" Harry didn't wait for Draco to answer. "Did he put bars on your window, put locks on your door, or install a cat flap as a means for you to get fed cold soup once a day?" Draco paled, his eyes went wide, and mutely shook his head.

"God, I'm sorry," he finally gasped, and sunk back into the bed. "Have you told Snape?" Then, he continued, "The closest it ever came to that was spending a night in the dungeons."

"Tell Snape?" Harry looked over at Draco. "What's to tell? Everybody has a belief of what _my_ life is like. You, Professor Snape, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Ron, Hermione." Draco really felt guilty for they way he treated Harry in the beginning. "But this isn't about me," Harry had determination in his voice. "No. No, this is about you. You're skating around the subject. There's something that you're not telling me. And it's fine. Really. I mean, only a few days ago we were sworn enemies. So I know you don't really trust me, but I do hope that one day you will." Draco hung his head.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I know I've been a pretty terrible person to you. And I do trust you. I have more reason to trust you than you have to trust me. I don't know what you're driving at. If something wasn't quite right - if I messed up the etiquette, or my grades weren't high enough for my father - he would smack me around, sometimes curse me if it was something more serious. Curses went up to and included the Cruciatus." Draco cut himself off and looked away again. He sniffed and dragged his sleeve across his face. "I'm sorry," Draco gasped between hitched breaths. "It's just - If it got really bad, I'd spend the night in the dungeons. I always got fed though."

Harry sighed. "There's nothing for you to be sorry for. I wasn't the nicest person to be around either. I didn't make it any easier." Harry looked over at the blonde-headed boy who was hiding his face from him. "What about your mom?" Draco turned and looked at Harry. "Did your mom ever do anything to you? Or try and stop it?" Draco shook his head, not trusting his voice to answer right away.

"She didn't care," he finally said. "She never did anything. She didn't love me enough to stop what she knew was going on."

Harry looked at Draco. He really looked at the boy. They were the same. Different sides of the same coin. All his life, all he ever wanted was a family. Someone who would love him unconditionally. Draco, he thought, had everything. The name, wealth, and a mom and dad. Things Harry never had or never would have. Harry saw that Draco's life was no better than his own. There was no love in the Malfoy house.


	20. Three May Keep a Secret

Severus stepped into the infirmary, more exhausted than he remembered being in a long, long time. He got the impression that he had just walked in on something, judging by the tension in the air and the looks the boys were giving him. They could put up with it, he figured, as he quietly transfigured his cot into a soft armchair. He looked at Harry and Draco for a few minutes before saying anything.

"I spoke with the Headmaster," he finally said. "He knew nothing of how Moody was treating you, Harry. That is no excuse, but it seems to be the truth."

"It doesn't matter," Harry said despondently. "It never mattered. They'll just do it again."

"If you mean that Moody will _ever_ touch you again, it will only be over my dead body," Severus vowed. "You asked me to be your advocate; I intend to fulfill that request. It also means that, if you are amiable, I will be assuming any so-called 'training' lessons you are to have." Draco tried nodding to Harry encouragingly, but he wasn't sure if the other boy noticed.

Harry put his head down. Tears pooled up in Harry's eyes. It was one thing to ask for someone to actually care enough about him to help him. It was another to hear it.

"Please," Harry whispered. His breath hitched in his throat.

"Oh, come on," Severus almost whined as he rolled his eyes. "There's no need for hysterics," he continued when Harry's breath hitched again, even as he rose from his chair and sat down on Harry's bed. Hesitatingly, Severus placed a strong hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry flinched at first from the touch, then leaned into it when his brain realized that it was a friendly touch and not one that would cause him pain. He couldn't understand why he was feeling this way. The more that Professor Snape sat there, the more Harry just wanted to hide in his robes like he done when they were in the Shack. The feeling of having strong, protective arms wrapped around him was almost addicting, the feeling that he was loved and safe. There was no way Professor Snape would do that again. Severus sighed, and pulled Harry towards his chest and wrapped his arms around him.

"You must stop thinking so loudly," Severus drawled. Harry just turned his head into Severus' robes. He must stop doing that, Harry thought.

"I'm sorry," Harry sobbed, "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Severus assured him quietly. The bed creaked, and Severus saw that Draco had crawled over to join them and put his hand on Harry's back and began to rub circles there.

"Harry, everything will be alright," Draco whispered. "It'll be fine. Professor Snape is here now. He'll protect you. Won't you, sir?" Draco watched Severus cautiously.

"With my life," Severus grunted. With that admission, Harry cried harder. He finally had it. Someone on his side. He just wrapped his arms around his Professor and gripped the back of his robes as if his life depended on it. Severus sighed.

"It will be alright, Potter." Harry shook his head against Severus' shoulder. Harry mumbled something on Severus' shoulder.

"Harry, I didn't hear you." Harry turned his head slightly, but did not remove it from Severus' shoulder.

"They'll come back. They always do." With that, Harry sobbed some more.

"Who are they?" Severus asked softly, too taken aback by Harry's display of emotions to even make a snarky comment.

"Please," Harry sobbed. "Let me stay with you." Harry pulled away from Severus, but not from his embrace so that he could look into his professor's dark eyes. "I heard you say that Draco was staying with you. Please. Please let me stay with you too. I won't be a bother. I promise. I...I'll clean. I'll cook all the meals. You won't even know I'm around. Please, Professor. I can't go back." Harry lowered his head back on the Severus' chest.

"Clean?" Severus asked, bewildered. He glanced at Draco for help, and the other boy just shook his head emphatically. "Cook? What are you babbling about? We have house elves for that. Where can't you go? _Who are they?_"

Harry just shook his head against Severus' shoulder. It has been a long time since Harry has every felt safe. If he was honest with himself he hadn't felt safe in the castle since his first year. Five years of being afraid that someone was coming to take him from his dorm bed.

"Harry, tell me _now_," Severus ordered. His voice didn't allow for any argument, but it wasn't cold or harsh either. Harry sniffled a little bit, trying to collect himself. He was being a right proper baby about this. "Harry, I need to know if I'm going to be an advocate for you. If you want me to fill that role in your life, you have to give me the tools to do it properly. I'm not going to do a half-ass job of it. So if you will kindly tell me what you're driveling on about."

"Moody wasn't the first one to take me from my dorm at night," Harry whispered, turning his head slightly to the side so he could talk, but not give up the soothing darkness that he enveloped in his Professor's arms. Severus' face darkened in confusion and he glanced again at Draco, who denied any knowledge.

"I might be an Legillimens," he sighed, "but I'm not a mind reader. _If you would please be clear. _Beating around the bush isn't going to change the reality of what you're trying to say." Harry did not want to give up his security and comfort of the darkness of his Professor's robes, but Harry knew he was right. No one knew what happened during his second year. He had never told anyone. Things calmed down some with the beginning of third year, but this year it was like history was almost repeating itself.

He pulled out of his Professor's embrace and sat back against the headboard of his bed. He looked exhausted. His eyes and nose were red. His face was flushed, and his hair was matted to his forehead from pressing his head against Severus' shoulder. He knew he looked a mess, and he couldn't find the energy within himself to care.

For a while no one spoke. Draco wondered if Harry would ever really say what was wrong with him. Severus was about to get up off the bed when Harry spoke.

"I don't feel safe in my dorm anymore," Harry sighed.

"Why?" Draco asked immediately.

Harry looked up at Draco. He was completely exhausted. He was tired of holding this inside for the last four years. He'd always wanted to tell someone. Before he was worried about being believed. But now, Professor Snape said he would look out for him, and he had vowed it on his life, something no other yet-living person had done.

"I've never told anyone," Harry put his head down. He did not want to see the disgust or disbelief on their faces when he told them his secret. With a deep sigh, "Moody was not the first Professor, adult, that removed me from my dorm in the middle of the night."

"Then who was?" Draco was trying to keep his voice calm, as to keep Harry calm.

"Professor," Harry ignored Draco's question. "Why did you hand me off to another Professor for detention when Ron and me flew into the Whomping Willow?" Severus gave Harry a cautious, calculating side-long look, and didn't answer immediately. Harry didn't seem in a hurry for an answer, for which Severus was grateful. Draco glanced between the two of them, clearly torn between several emotions, including confusion, anxiety and curiosity.

"I was furious with you," Severus finally admitted stiffly. "You have no idea the amount of danger you and Weasley put yourselves - and the whole of the wizarding world - in with that stunt. Not only could the spells on the car have failed at any moment, sending you plummeting to your untimely deaths, but any number of Muggles could have seen you, panicked, and attacked you, and last, but not least, crashing into the Willow certainly almost did kill you. Of course, after actually managing to survive all of that, did you really want to test it to see if you could survive me too? You know me well enough, Mr. Potter, that I do not make good decisions when I'm angry. And I was very angry that night. I felt it better to leave the matter of your discipline to someone else."

"It'll all be okay, Harry," Draco interjected in a soft, soothing voice. "We'll help you. Just tell us."

"You should have taken my detention," Harry was so exhausted his voice was void of emotion. He then looked up at his teacher. His eyes were dull and blank. "I will try not to make you angry, but promise me you will always take over my detentions. All of them. Please."

"Who did you have detention with?" Draco asked. Harry looked from Severus to Draco, and said one name.

"Lockhart." Severus' brow creased, but he didn't say anything immediately.

"My Slytherins asked for the same thing," he commented. "They weren't used to having to sign pictures and answer fan mail for a detention and they found it excruciating. I told them to live with it, that a detention wasn't meant to be fun." Severus face darkened as the cogs in his head continued to turn, and he glanced at Draco worriedly.

"I never got a detention with him," he said.

"Be grateful that you didn't," Harry still wasn't looking at them. "I hated his detention." Harry sighed. He really wanted to stop holding this in, and it seemed that the only people in the world that he could trust were sitting next to him. "I don't think I would have minded if all I had to do was sign pictures an answer fan mail. But, when has anything been normal when it comes to me?"

"Harry, what's so hard about just telling me what's on your mind?" Severus sighed, clearly losing patience. "I'm very tired, and if we don't get to the point soon, I'm afraid I'll fall asleep waiting. So, please, _get to the point._" Harry flinched a little at the strength of the words, but even through his frustration, Severus' words were not malicious. Draco laid a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry said putting his head back down looking at his hands in his lap. "It's really hard for me to talk about it. I've never told anybody this. I haven't even told Hermione or Ron." He sat there between the two of them, wishing that he was back in the cocoon of his Professor's arms. But his Professor was tired, and he had no right to ask to be held again. "I know you're tired, Professor," Harry refused to lift his eyes. "I won't keep you any longer." Severus sighed again.

"I don't leave conversations unfinished," he said, perhaps a little more softly than he had intended. "Take your time." Severus was concerned about Harry, and seeing him look so helpless, so hopeless, so sad, made Severus feel like he had to do something, and his judgement was a little blurred from his exhaustion. At least, that was his justification for his next actions. Severus reached out and ruffled Harry's black mop.

With his eyes closed, Harry leaned into the touch. The other two occupants on the bed did not miss the tears that escaped the closed lids of the boy. Severus let his hand rest on Harry's scalp. It was quiet for a while till both of them thought Harry had fell asleep. Then a small voice broke the silence.

"I'm safer with you, please," Harry whispered. Severus looked down Harry. "I know that we don't get along much, but you've never hurt me. I mean, you you say things, but you've never touched me." Severus exchanged a worried look with Draco.

"Harry," he murmured quietly, but his voice was still stern, "are you telling me what I think you're trying to tell me?" Both Severus and Draco seemed to hold their breath as Harry thought about the question. Harry looked up at Draco.

"Be happy that you didn't have detentions with him." Draco's brow creased. He looked from Harry to Severus, biting his lip nervously, fear in his eyes at the realization of what Harry was saying. Severus put both hands on Harry's shoulders and turned him slightly so that he was looking the boy in his eyes.

"Lockhart?" was the only thing that came out of Severus' mouth.

Harry nodded, with dull green eyes, washed with tears, looking at his Professor.


End file.
